I love going to the club. My favorite thing in the world is recreating movie scenes for my one night stands. Yesterday I took an Arab girl home to my tiny apartment. After the sex act, we lay there talking and she mentioned she had never seen Titanic. I was shocked, and wanted to show her what it was like. I waited until she was asleep, then closed the window tightly and snuck out of the room on my tippy toes. I then filled the gap between the door and the frames with some special sealant, then, I covered the whole door in glue and put a thick plywood board over it. Then, I drilled a 1 inch hole through the plywood board and the door, and put a rubber pipe through the hole. Then, I attached the end of pipe to a high flow rate water outlet and turned it to maximum output, with the coldest setting. I calculated that the room would submerge in 8 feet of water within 30 minutes if an expected leakage rate (nothing is perfect) of 1 gallon per minute was assumed. She woke up screaming and I shouted back “it’s like the titanic”. She said “AAAAAAAAAA GET ME OUT OF HERE” and I said “exactly, all the passengers wanted to get out of the situation too!”. As she continued to scream, I went downstairs to make some toast and strawberry jam, that I imported from a farm in the french countryside. It was delicious. When I went back upstairs I heard gurgling noises. Embarrassingly, the room filled a little quicker than I expected, although I was also proud that I’d done such a great job at water insulation. I quickly pulled out the pipe and let the water drain out of the hole. After a few minutes, she came into view as the water level came down to below the hole. She was still moving, spitting up water. I peered through the hole “now you don’t need to watch it!”. She vomited up some water. I used my rotary saw to cut a human-sized hole in the plywood-covered door and gestured her to “come here!”. Her eyes were wide, terrified and exhausted. “musa’ada…. AAAAAA…. musa’ada”. Suddenly, she sprung up and frantically forced herself through the hole I had just cut, which was actually a little too small. As she was wriggling, I said “I made some toast for you too, it’s downstairs” but she somehow forced her way through and pushed past me, then ran downstairs screaming in arabic. On the way downstairs, she tripped over a few different pairs of shoes (doc martens and converse) I had lined up (I leave them on the stairs so I can put them on while descending to save time), smashing her head on the floor below. She screamed again, and jumped up, then strained to open the front door, kicking it in frustration. “Be careful!” I said “That’s a brand new fiberglass door!”. She groaned and vomited a little more, then finally opened the door and ran out, stumbled down the street and crying out in arabic. I can’t wait to go back to the club again next weekend

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Idea vs Cash