I hate serial texters. You know those people who are too ADD to compile a two-sentence thought, so instead they blast you like five texts in a span of 45 seconds? For god's sake, ALLOW YOUR BRAIN TO FINISH WORKING, then text me. I'll still be here… Not caring about what your cat did this morning.
And that work is crazy.
And that you wish you were already drinking.
And that oh my god it's only Wednesday?? I totally thought it was Thursday! Man this gonna be a long week.
But work really is crazy u kno? If I'm not done at 7 I'm goin hm anyway.
Fuk it, straight to the bar, u wanna come?
Nm, I'm gonna go hm and change first, maybe let's meet at like 10.
Ahhh, I forgot it's only Wed!! Let's save it for tom.
U down bro?
I was at a decent strip club recently and they had a bathroom attendant inside a comparatively sleazy-looking bathroom. Now, what a lot of guys will do, in lieu of tipping the bathroom attendant or dealing with the implied shame of not tipping, is just NOT wash their hands. It's kind of a weird power these attendants hold over the faucet. But I knew as soon as I walked in that I was definitely going to wash my hands, and also not tip. So after the dude turned on the faucet, squirted soap into my hand, and eventually handed me a washcloth (a strange ritual designed to make you feel like a 5-year-old who's dad just accompanied him into a department store bathroom), I started to walk out. Normally, you just get the evil eye, but this dude straight up yelled, “TIP??!” And I was like, “To wash my own hands?!” To which he replied with angrier fervor, “YOU WANNA TIP ME??!” So I had to be honest with him: “Sir, I haven't given a single dollar to any of the strippers out there, and they are LITERALLY taking their clothes off for me. You squirted soap in my hand and yelled at me. So NO TIP FOR YOU.” Strip club bathroom attendants give new meaning to “just the tip.”
Speaking of saving money at the strip club, as many times as the sexy waitresses walk around with those test tubes of neon liquor, I'm never tempted to buy one. I'm pretty sure those things are like 25% artificial from-concentrate fruit juice, 30% vag juice, 20% hep C, 5% stripper saliva, 5% natural leftover cock flavor, 3% alcohol, and +/-11% bad at math. If the ingredients were any more complex, you'd think it was developed during an episode of Breaking Bad. Come to think of it, “Blue Meth” sounds like the perfect name for a strip club shot.
Have you ever been looking at recent photos of someone on Facebook, then accidentally arrowed the wrong way through their album and all of a sudden come across a photo of them 5 years ago?! That shit will really put life in perspective fast. It'll also make you go, “Wow, she was a lot cuter back then.”
I've never been very good at talking during sex, so lately I've been practicing while masturbating. The problem is I have to play both sides. “Oh my god do you want it?” “Yeah, give it to me!” “Like that?” “Yeah just like that!” “Oh my god my hand is so hard!” “Keep going, don't stop!” “YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, I'M FINGERING YOU SO HARD RIGHT NOW!!” “…Wait, did the glove come off??” “Oh shit… are you on moisture control?” “NO!!” “Okay then just high five me really hard and everything will be fine.”
Recently I considered switching my cell phone provider from Verizon to T-Mobile. The problem is, I'm nervous about signing a contract with T-Mobile when I've never actually tested their service. How do I know they'll provide the same reliability I've gotten used to? Switching cell phone plans is basically like getting out of a long-term relationship and forgetting what it's like to date again. In my case it's even worse because I've only ever been with one company. And this is why people end up sticking with the wrong plan for so long, regardless of the price they end up paying.