Sex isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes I find myself wondering when it’s going to stop or what I should have for breakfast. Other times I ponder what time the trains run until, or how much a cab would cost to get me the hell out of his place. 872 more words
A man, who smelled like a distillery, flopped down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man’s tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. 140 more words
I don’t know what to say about this one.. except that my stomach hurt from laughing so much. This guy’s face, when he’s trying to chow down pieces of shake while riding a motorcycle at 100mph — is priceless.