You guys. When was the last time you went to McGee’s? Personally, I haven’t been back since that night freshman year I blew a Loyola finance major in the alley behind Lake Shore Fitness, made my roommate feed me Cheez-Its to get the dick taste out of my mouth, and woke up with two symmetrical hickeys on either side of my neck. If you’re reading this I’m guessing you haven’t been in a while, but you can picture it, right? It’s all there. The thick air. The sticky black and white tiles. The sticky bar. The sticky karaoke stage: That familiar sign out front: McGee’s Tavern and Grille. 

But have you really seen McGee’s lately?

Open your fucking eyes people, the next time you’re walking down Webster, and look at the sign. LOOK AT THE SIGN!!! LOOK AT THE SIGN AND LOOK FOR AN S! LOOK FOR AN APOSTROPHE!! LOOK AND FIND NOTHING!!!

You guys. It’s just McGee.

One time when I was at McGee’s someone did karaoke to the Star Spangled Banner. I was so confused and it was awesome. Do you know how different that memory is now that I know I’ve been deceived?

Imagine if you found out, right now, that Joe Biden’s name was Joe Bide. Would you feel good about that? Or would you feel lied to? I know how I would feel.

Probably the same way I felt when I found out that the place I made all those memories and by made all those memories I mean blacked out all those times isn’t the place I thought it was. Countless times I have wondered, but who is McGee, and the answer, now, has been made grievously clear. 

The bar. The whole bar. You guys, it’s just McGee.

Mandela effect or willful deception? You decide, sheeple.