Nyc is like a mosaic of my failed dates.
Not good, Ive never been this late. We need to talk.
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In retrospect pumpkin carving while drinking Patron was a bad idea.
I just had a formal request to dress as a boyscout for my meeting with Legal on Friday. From Legal. Time to go home.
And "sexual slave/chef" was as it turns out not a real career choice...
I don't know at which point last night turned terribly, terribly wrong, but it was somewhere around Motel 6, specifically the parking lot.
81 degrees in april.... Thinking margaritacicles, you in?
Indeed. Apparently I called my sisters and told them I wouldn't get arrested because it's not a real sword.
The bar tenders gave me the number for a "taxi"... It's just a dude with a van. In retrospect, pretty sketchy. Robert was cool though.
You better fucking tell me or I'm turning blow job week into go fuck yourself week.
I was chasing pulls of fireball with bites of a bagel and yelling at people to take tequila shots with me. I shouldn't be allowed to go out alone.
When dressing for a 3way, how do I convey to the other chick I care enough to look pretty but not so much that it's a huge deal?
Why can't you just come over, fuck me, then leave so i can get stoned and watch law and order?
You are a super loving wife. But did you, at any point since Thanksgiving, slip me half your bottle of stool softeners?
Apparently I offered the cop my Taco Bell.
Desperate times...
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