A Pig Named Chaos: Surviving The Museum of Death

The afternoon sky was gray and clear as Unpaid Intern pulled our ZipCar off of the 10 onto Hollywood Boulevard. We cruised up to an ivy-colored building and through its rusty gate. The spot next to us was...reserved. We knew we were at the right place. It took months to get the balls, as the youth say, to go to The Museum of Death. From the website, I knew that they played...
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