Holy shit I just stopped short on route 18 because I thought my gps was saying I had to turn right in 11 feet. After almost hitting the guardrail I realized I had to turn in 11 miles.
Fuck I'm high.
Just saw a guy from Kansas and a guy from Nebraska arguing over who had less of an accent. God Bless the Midwest.
Most the numbers in my phone are mistakes. It's a virtual graveyard of people I should never pick up for.
I just blindly shoved it in. I'm still not sure which hole I got.
Nothing like throwing up 1/2 price appatizers and 2 4 1 personal pitcher in uniform to remind myself what a succesful failure I am
I smell like booze and the valet literally buckled me in, def top 3 walks of shame
The doctor told me if I woke up with a broken foot and don't know how it happened, I might want to look into getting treatment.
Just spent 15 minutes trying to save the life of a fruit fly that dive-bombed my coffee. I figured it doesn't make sense to let two souls die in this place...
No. I want to vom filet mignon and ziti bits everywhere and my body feels like I ran a cock triathalon. I feel less triumphant and more like death.
Fastest way to get judgmental looks on a Sunday morning: wear sunglasses inside carrying a case of beer and thin mints at the grocery store. May or may not have ran into the glass door.
Gotta love Minnesota
It wasn't a great time! You grabbed me, picked me up, and make me pee in the sink!
Well that was the first and last time I've had to write "divorce party" on a request time off form. I'm throwing it for my mom. What is my life turning into.
There's no button for "gave my boyfriend's cock to a friend" on my intimacy calendar.
Lol, perhaps. But the drinks are so cheap, the music is better, and the bartenders and bouncers all know my name. I can't abandon it, even if it is a gay bar, its still my Nirvana.
Anyone who does not know who Paul McCartney is does NOT get to put hands in my pants
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