aaaaaaand
I just met the Freelance Whales.
It’s called Bez Robs the Cradle. I seriously don’t think he’s old enough to legally drink. Actually, he probably only asked me out so I could buy beer for him & his friends.
Written from the point of view of the homies I write dealbreakers about.
Dealbreaker: You Don’t Shut Up. Like, ever. I thought you were just nervous in the beginning, and that’s why you talked through dinner. But I seriously don’t even understand how you finished your food, since the only thing I remember is words coming out your mouth. How did you have time to put anything in? Oh haha, yeah, that’s what she said. Are you saying that ironically? Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Wow, you sure joke about farts a lot. Are you a 12 year old boy? Because that would make me a gay pedophile. And I already decided not to be a preist. I won’t be calling. Then you can go write a dealbreaker about me “being mean” or “not eating” or some shit.