Look how responsible you are! You're the Steve Jobs of no strings attached labor. Some day a ghostwriter will write your autobiography, but for now you pack your laptop and headphones and head to the coffee shop a few blocks away. It's busy, almost packed to the brim with people who have nowhere better to go. But don't worry! Your lucky table is still available! You set your stuff down and order the cheapest thing on the menu, and get to it. Your laptop flips on, your headphones click in, your fingers move almost on their own. You take a sip of the junior coffee and get ready to work in that spot for the next five hours.
Uh-oh. You look up and make eye contact with the barista. He's onto your freeloading plan and is being really pissy about it. He has an ICP tattoo on his forearm. It doesn't mean anything, but it's really unfortunate looking.
One roommate's art-fueled movement goes terribly wrong.
Emma Stone was the most paranoid person I had ever met. In private she wore a full suit of medieval armor at all times, visor down.
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