Post-weekend beer gas
The men’s restroom at work is a veritable slaughterhouse on Monday Mornings.
Smells like sour cherries and stale bread dipped in mustard. I’m no exception – my bedsheets are rank. Just peeling them back is an invite for an intense migraine.
I still cannot believe how the majority of people repeticiously wreck their bodies every weekend.
I couldn’t believe when I read his filmography that he played a toilet (no joke) in According to Jim