You wake up on a yellow and blue plaid couch. A red stain is beside your head. You feel grossed out until you realize it's your blood, then you feel bad for making the rat-nasty couch worse. You put your hand down your pants, both front and back. It looks like your genitalia made it out safe. You look around the small room but find nothing for your eyes to lock onto. No art, no pictures, nothing. Just one big ass television sitting on an empty table. Suddenly, you realize that you are wearing the man's orange shirt. You can hear a radio in another room playing some Black Sabbath song. You're surprised that you can't remember what song it is, so you decide to find out.
You end up at a closed door. You can hear a shower running and steam is being spewed above the door. You knock, but no one answers. You stand still for a minute. It is apparent that you forgot to take your medication this morning as you start pacing back and forth from impatience.
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
Can't tell a drinking fountain from a urinal? We've got you covered. Brush up on your drinking fountain enthusiast -- or sipper -- vocabulary and learn to talk and swap sips with the best of them.
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