I don’t want this to be a “this is what I look like after doing a shot of beer every minute for an hour/on my way to Mars” but that’s kind of what it is. It’s also me in a complete sloth-like state on a pleather sectional with Futey making a weird face. Then he said, “here, take a picture with my hairy leg,” to which I replied, “okay!” That was the third time in my life that I got drunk off beer.
Apparently, I walked around in my underwear for an hour. I don’t think anyone knows why. I think I randomly decided to take a shower when everyone else went to get tacos. I actually don’t even know where everyone else went. I just remember someone, either Hatkoff or Jorge (the two most opposite people there), asking me why I didn’t have any pants on. By the end of the night, after 20 rounds of Asshole and going to Tony’s, I was belting out Miike Snow lyrics to Malysa’s acoustics and I let the guy I’m seeing do two body shots of I don’t know what off my ROCK HARD ABS (jk - maybe like, wood hard. a really soft, smooth wood).
In other news, Charlie got his balls removed and I’m not getting a cell phone for about a month. Gotta wait for that upgrade, ya know? Life without a cell phone is great! I think my stress level has decreased by half, if not more. No one can get into contact with me — it’s great. Honestly. I’m not even trying to be sarcastic. I’m living “don’t call me, I’ll call you” to the maxxxxx.
EDIT: Apparently that’s not Futey’s leg, it’s Kev’s. So many ‘s’s. BLAME THE POWER HOWER.