Brian and Stewie are doing a song, look! I can't go to bed yet. Your shamed faces illuminated by LED screens, too tired to leave your seat, not sleepy enough to close your eyes. Across the nation, adults, real grown-up adults with jobs and mobile phone contracts and long-term boyfriends and girlfriends, have been secretly indulging in animated rape jokes and flatulence. Burning bright with the colors of Family Guy. The television, tuned to BBC Three, would be burning bright. At around 11:30 PM, me and my two roommates-all culturally engaged and supposedly compassionate towards social causes-would find ourselves slumped on the sofa, the debris of dinner and another working day strewn around us, more often than not, with a fresh can of beer in our hands. There's been an unspoken routine in my apartment, and it's not something we're proud of.
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