I can't remember if I've announced this yet or not and I'm far too lazy to check, but Justin and I are taking a road trip to New York this summer. His parents and friends live there and/or the area. If you ask me, most of those little states over there are "in the area" because you're never more than a few miles from anything or anyone on the east coast. For our trip we needed a bag large enough to accommodate three-plus weeks of clothes and other shit. Most people would opt to use multiple smaller bags, but not me; I wanted the biggest damn bag I could find. Big bags are cool because they keep all of your stuff together and personally, I think it's easier to schlep around one bag no matter WHAT size it is than to try and juggle and balance multiple bags. Besides, when it comes to carrying shit I'm like a fucking pack mule - just ask Justin who brings in the majority of our groceries. Ok back to the bag. The bag I ordered is so damn big that the manufacturers gave it a name. Our bag is named "Big Bertha" and we haven't yet decided if we'll continue to call her by her full name or if we'll eventually shorten it to "Bertha" or maybe "B.B."...I'll let you know what we decide when we decide it. Big Bertha arrived yesterday all folded up and after unfolding her she was still pretty flat so I couldn't REALLY tell how big she was. I found myself standing inside of her and using my feet to push out her corners (yes I will be referring to her as �her� and not �it� or �the bag� as I feel she is too big NOT to call her by her given name, affectionate nickname, or the appropriate pronoun). While I was standing inside of Big Bertha and holding her handles up I noticed that her sides come up on me somewhere between mid-thigh and hip. I thought to myself, �hmmmm I betcha I can fit my whole body in here� so that�s what I did. Ya know what? I was right. I DO fit inside of her with plenty-o-room to spare�in fact, if there were two of me we would BOTH fit inside of Big Bertha. I love Big Bertha�
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