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One Friday night I came home from work and found my roommate greasy Craig curled up on the bathroom floor crying in a puddle of his own vomit. On the sink there was a mostly empty bottle of vodka. I knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder, "Craig. Craig. Buddy. What's wrong man?" I thought maybe his mom had died or some poo poo like that. He looked at me with his red puffy eyes and said mornfully "I did it. I did nine eleh-heh-heven!" So that solves it. Greasy Craig did 9/11 and he feels terrible about it.
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# ¿ Sep 11, 2016 19:11 |
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# ¿ May 15, 2024 18:39 |