Me. At least after what I've been through.
He was sitting cross legged outside his tent repeatedly hitting the ground with a hammer and shouting 'this.is.a.good.idea.'
We decided that the paper cups disintegrating was god's way of telling us we had had enough
I kinda wanna eat your hands right now.
Put down the everclear and go to bed.
She started howling at the moon. That was pretty much the deal breaker.
Using the only finger i can move, i calculated body mass, intake and time. It's mathematically impossible for me to still have this hangover at 9pm. I passed out at 8pm last night. Fuck vodka.
I did sing regulators with a random black dude at The Rail without looking at the screen, hugged him and walked off stage. I pretty much live up to all expectations.
He was "hot guy in the dark". One of us had to sleep with him. I took the bullet you're welcome.
She ordered an O'douls. That was the end of that date
I'm literally beginning to think that my sex dreams are prophesies
All I need is a morbidly obese man masturbating at the other end of the car and I'll complete the CTA Horror Trifecta.
drunk and crying about Shakespeare- how's your night?
If my life today were a movie the subtitle would be: Revenge of the Beer Shits
So turns out my new assistant isn't really my assistant. The owner needed a title for his FWB so his wife wouldn't catch on. I got a three hundred a month credit limit boost on my corporate credit card instead.
Watching South Park, doing sit-ups and drinking tequila. In other words, my night is going pretty good.
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