I Share This From The Safety Of My Snowy Isolation

Ah fuck. Throat hurts, I'm hungover, and I gotta make the bed at the office, wha? Hold up hold up son, make the bed at the office? Listen son, I don't need all this interrogation. It's no big deal dawgs. I can sleep at my office. There's blankets, pillows (which reminds me of this time this woman in a movie yelled at this chick and called her boobs "dirty pillows") and a futon. The office is a converted loft in a residential building- so it's not so outlandish. Now- this is outlandish:


Wew, who rocks the party like my blog rocks the party!!!
Well, maybe this crazy ass motherfucker rocks the party:


Oh god I gotta stop doing that with the examples of stuff and all. It's making me itchy in the pocket. Psych! Pockets don't even have the ability to feel itches. That was just a lame excuse. I don't wanna show examples of stuff anymore.


Stuff

Ah FUCK!
I can't even stop my own self.


I told these guys I would blog the shit out of them.
In all honestly, my true feelings about them are far far too intense that I am afraid that once I started sharing them, there'd be no more need for words anymore. And I'm kind of not ready for that. That guy on the end looks a lot like Micheal Imperioli, but it's not him. How do I know? Because his name is Jonathan.

But I am ready for the weekend! Hell YEAH! Now it's time to let it all hang out.