My Hamptons summer hookup resume reads like a walk-in clinic waiting list.
yah I made NO friends last night. at one point i think i replaced talking with spitting
nah, shes just mad because we went through all her fb pics and tagged her crotch as all the guys shes fucked
I faked it too. I just spit on your bed.
I don't know. I guess at the end of the day I wanted taco bell more than a boyfriend.
Totally get that.
We did a shot for each one. Father... son... and holy ghost. That wasn't enough though so we moved on to toasting dead relatives.
I don't know which is a more impressive stolen object. The couch from a sheer logistical viewpoint, or the parking meter because i'm pretty sure that's a federal offence.
OMG HE JUST PUKED WITH THE DOOR OPEN WHILE DRIVING ON THE ROAD AND OMG WE NEED TO CHAT BUT NOT ATM CAUSE THERES PUKE ON MY PHONE
Forgot to tell you--the bartender at Crowbar set his arm on fire last night. He was doing this "Cocktail" bartender trick of pouring alcohol that was on fire between glasses. Then some leaked out, onto his arm, and set his arm on fire, then his shirt. Exciting! (And he's ok).
The cleaning lady has a form she makes me sign every time she finds me passed out in my office so she can keep track of how much to charge me each month for keeping quiet about it.
I climbed up on the tank of the toilet so I could take a slo-mo vid of myself pissing into the garbage can, but the base of the toilet shattered and I had to bail.
That reminds me of the morning I woke up on the sidewalk covered in chicken wings
I woke up to an email from expedia confirming my flight to hong kong
its not even a love triangle. its a love square and it has come back to haunt me
My life is just a trash fire of work and Japanese video games now
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