my brother is a facebook fan of two things: God, and Rhianna. if he's not a prime example of the rare "baptist closeted gay," i don't know who is.
So I wake up this morning with a bottle of dish detergent and a dildo. Good call on bringing those girls from community college.
drunk me just left notes all around the apt to remind shitfaced me that i have mashed potatoes in the fridge. do not take them down if you come home before me.
Yes, I did know where her mouth had been, but frankly I think it was a lesson you needed to learn.
Just proved I could salsa dance in a bar where no one was dancing
Sidenote...no idea how to salsa
the parade is in 5 days. put your big boy pants on and come to beer training. time to build your tolerance. i can't have you passing out in a bush with a cape on again this year.
The only thing I remember is doing a toddlers and tiaras dance routine onstage. I fucking CURTSIED.
OMG stop. Pretty feet? Sparkle baby!
Maybe I'm just didn't notice and imagined a different penis as a Freudian coping mechanism?
We have so much sex to catch up on
I have 7 papers to write and I already bought gas station ice cream in my pjs and questioned whether or not a beer float was a thing.
I cut myself stripping on your car. Probably a profession I shouldn't pursue
Did this whole conversation happen while you were shitting?
now acid just makes me think of crab ragoon
you told us the chicken was mocking you, then proceeded to explain that every time someone reads your mind you accidentally think of something sexual
So, I almost went hone with a French guy and a drag queen. Together. Then I became sober enough to realize, that's not my style.
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