“I have a throbbing migraine…” Whether or not it’s true at the time, it is the perfect excuse and has been getting me out of shit since 2005. Suitable for use by both genders and impossible to argue with.
Also, your brief bio at the end is hilarious. 🙂
Hey, where’s the quiz at the end that tells me what Disney princess I am? When did the clever PGP start churning out “articles” that are better suited for Buzzfeed?
I fucking love football. I left a hook-up’s house very hungover and very early just to make the three-hour drive back to my house, so I wouldn’t miss the 1 o’clock kickoff. He was part butt-hurt/part impressed.
You need a brochick. Case-in-point: I love video games; I love action movies, gore and porn; I missed one football game this season and it was because I was stuck on a plane (the attendant had to keep me updated per my request); I find cleaning stuff to be satisfying; I prefer to shop for clothes alone because no guy should be put through that. On the outside I’m girly as fuck and always gawked at, but on the inside I’m just like you. I don’t know what girls you and your friends have been messing with, but it sounds like they’re ruining it for the rest of us.
I’m still seething about receiving no-name butterscotch disks wrapped in gold cellophane. Ugh! Cheapskates! Then there were the strange ass candies that sounded like they were from the Great Depression like Bit o’ Honey and Mary Janes.
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“I have a throbbing migraine…” Whether or not it’s true at the time, it is the perfect excuse and has been getting me out of shit since 2005. Suitable for use by both genders and impossible to argue with.
Also, your brief bio at the end is hilarious. 🙂
Haha! Fuck. I salute you for calling me out on that one. Let’s hope I make a better nurse.
Hey, where’s the quiz at the end that tells me what Disney princess I am? When did the clever PGP start churning out “articles” that are better suited for Buzzfeed?
I fucking love football. I left a hook-up’s house very hungover and very early just to make the three-hour drive back to my house, so I wouldn’t miss the 1 o’clock kickoff. He was part butt-hurt/part impressed.
And no, I am not into vagina unless it’s my own.
You need a brochick. Case-in-point: I love video games; I love action movies, gore and porn; I missed one football game this season and it was because I was stuck on a plane (the attendant had to keep me updated per my request); I find cleaning stuff to be satisfying; I prefer to shop for clothes alone because no guy should be put through that. On the outside I’m girly as fuck and always gawked at, but on the inside I’m just like you. I don’t know what girls you and your friends have been messing with, but it sounds like they’re ruining it for the rest of us.
I’m still seething about receiving no-name butterscotch disks wrapped in gold cellophane. Ugh! Cheapskates! Then there were the strange ass candies that sounded like they were from the Great Depression like Bit o’ Honey and Mary Janes.
I had a throw made out of all my old t-shirts. The packrat in me justifies it as a brilliant and inexpensive upcycle.
Absolutely hilarious.
Epitome of “work smarter, not harder.”