My drug dealer is spending the weekend in my studio apartment. I feel like I've crossed a line that should never be crossed.
My therapist told me it was ok for me to "take risks" now. Cue the hookers and blow.
Talk me down man. Writing a paper drunk and about to buy Celine Dion's greatest hits.
Her grandmother had a handicap stair lift. I just put her drunk ass on it and let her ride it up. Thank God for broken hips.
MEET ME OUTSIDE YOUR HOUSE IN THREE MINUTES. BE DRUNK. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
So the night ended when we tried making fireworks out of gunpowder and oregano. You can figure out how that went.
HELP A SISTER OUT. AND KEEP YOUR TONGUE OUT OF THE HUMMUS.
TOO HIGH TO FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT
Also his beard was very delicious looking. I wanted to touch it so bad, but I held back.
You kept going up to guys in plaid and screaming "are you a lumberjack" in their faces
Happy Birthday. May your liver respect you, fat bitches neglect you, hangovers reject you, and AA accept you.
He sat down, pointed at my Converse and said "I have the same shoes." I thought "I'm going to have sex with you by the end of the night."
My vibrator looks like a lipstick tube. So does my mace. I just realized the potential problems of keeping them both in the same bag.
Not now. Out of camp chairs. Carving a new one with a chainsaw. Mushrooms are starting to kick and I gotta get this done NOW.
"my nose is broken but I'm beer pong champ so it evens out really"
We broke up. My life is now 7 inches less.
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