FUCK!

So here you are.

You got piss-in-your-pants drunk again and invited a complete stranger from the Internet over to your place for sex.

Now you’re in a bit of a pickle aren’t you? All because you got brave for a split-second and asked, “Wanna come over?” And to your surprise, he responded with, “Address?” And then you were like, “FUCKKKKKKK!” So now your brain can’t catch up with itself because you have a million things to do before he gets here. Also because you’re drunk, you stupid asshole.

Sorry. There’s no use making you feel frantic AND disappointed in yourself. Let’s save that for tomorrow morning. For now, let’s prioritize:

Start by cleaning the living room.

NO! The bedroom.

NO! Go shower first. You can make excuses for the state of your apartment, but not your hygiene.

Okay. Take your clothes off and put them in the hamper.

FUCK! Where’s the hamper?! Do you even own a hamper? Screw it. Jam it all behind the bathroom door.

You definitely need a playlist to shower by. And worse case scenario: He arrives within the next five minutes and gets to hear what great taste in music you have. “Is that Sylvan Esso?” he’ll wonder. “I love Sylvan Esso.”

Alright, so definitely some Sylvan Esso. Maybe some Sinkane. Leagues. Real Estate. Yeah, this is good. Eclectic and tasteful without being too hip or overtly anything. You’re actually really good at picking out songs. Maybe you could freelance as a playlist curator. That’s a great idea! You’ve got to write that down. Where’s your phone? Oh shit, your phone! That guy’s on his way! Get in the fucking shower!!!

Alright, alright. Soap under the arms. Soap on the dick and balls. Soap all up inside the asshole. If he goes back there with his face, at least you did the bare minimum. That pube situation is not good, but it’s not out of control either, so don’t even think about grabbing the scissors and trimming the hedges. You’re washed now, so just try to keep this momentum going!

Yo, this bedroom is fucking gross. Why is there a pair of boots in the middle of the floor with a sock hanging out of each one? And those jeans over there are practically standing up on their own. And the fucking Q-tips on every surface?! You’re a farm animal. But you can’t fix your shamble of a life right now; you can only fix this shitty mess. But you need to put on some clothes first. The trick to dressing for sex is looking relaxed, but confident. You are neither, but should appear as such. Don’t overthink this. A pair of gym shorts without underwear; the man’s lingerie. Very practical. Oh, and a T-shirt from high school. Good idea, appear youthful and nostalgic. Now slap on some deodorant and try not to sweat a lot when you’re cleaning this house — which looks like a group of people hosted a cockfight in the middle of a frat party after the world ended.

Go find a candle. Worse case scenario: He arrives within the next five minutes and at least you’ve got a candle burning. Candles make people think of mom, and being home, and sometimes real romantic fucking. All of which are nice thoughts, but not in that order. Oh, you don’t have any candles? Well make yourself a reminder to buy candles tomorrow. Where’s your phone? Oh shit, your phone! That guy’s on his way! Jam that pile of clothes in the closet and muscle the door shut! Febreze this bitch and move onto the living room!

NO! First run to the kitchen.

Grab the trashcan, run back to the living room, and just start pitching everything on the coffee table into it. And don’t you even think about cleaning that kitchen, bitch. He’s never going to see it, so just shut the lights off and pretend it’s not there. Let’s just focus on, what appears to be, a student project about how landfills work spread out all over the coffee table. That’s a bowl of crusty jasmine rice with pieces of rotisserie chicken congealed in, what appears to be, yellow mustard. That’s it! No more weed for you. But that’s a bigger problem, kind of like the one where you get piss-in-your-pants drunk and invite a complete stranger from the Internet over to your place for sex. You’re just coming face-to-face with a lot of mirrors right now and none of them look particularly glamorous. But just keep cramming that trashcan with Taco Bell wrappers and flimsy paper Burger King and we’ll deal with one issue at a time, starting tomorrow.

But right now you have to make one decision: What should be playing on the TV when he shows up? The obvious choices are: Bob’s Burgers, Modern Family, and Parks and Rec — lovable comedies, with which everyone is familiar. You can watch any of these without really being too invested or just use it as background noise while you force small talk. You’ve already seen these episodes, but you won’t have to fake-laugh in front of him because each one is genuinely funny. Go with Parks and Rec.

Alright, one more lap around the apartment. The kitchen is a black hole, your bedroom is serviceable for the 12 seconds he’ll see it with the lights on, the bathroom is out of toilet paper and there’s water all over the floor. Replace the roll and move on. The living room? Meh. That’ll do, pig.

Now flip on the porch light so he can find the address and flop yourself down on the couch in front of the TV. Adjust your limbs and torso to appear as chill as possible. You’re just kicking it. Yeah that’s right. You’re kicking it. And you’re down for whatever. Pfft. You always stay this relaxed. And you talk like a black person when you’re feeling relaxed, don’t you? Yeah, son. Relax. Just don’t fall asleep. That guy will be here any minute, and you don’t want to miss him. You can close your eyes for a second, but don’t drift off. Everything looks decent for once. Show it off to someone. What are you doing?! Stay awake!!!

Oh, fuck it.

He's not worth it.

Plus, you never got around to sending him your address, anyway.

But at least your asshole's clean.