Misplacing things is a good excuse to fuck

I had to give it to Michael. He was way more consistent while we were breaking

up than he ever was while we were together. For the last three nights he

come over exactly at 645 p.m. pounding on my door telling me I had some random

item that I knew he did not give a shit about. Where are my noise-canceling

headphones? I don't know, sounds like a great question for yourself, considering