Brandy, I need a picture of your boobs. Not time to explain.
you were running down the aisles of wal mart singing 'follow the yellowbrick road'. i'm pretty sure you thought the night shift workers were the munchkins & started crying when they wouldnt help u find the wizard. needless to say u were pretty stoned/wasted
I don't remember. I remember laying in the trunk of a car. For hours.
Didn't get to fuck her. Had to leave abruptly through window. Explain later.
how you manage to cockblock me from 500 miles away still baffles me.
I think this hangover is going to kill me. If it succeeds I would like you to read a dramatic rendition of 'Trapped in the closet' complete with interpretative dance at my funeral.
Apparently while trying to get up from vomiting in the toilet I grabbed the seat cover for leverage and smashed my own head between it and the bowl. I don't remember this.
Oh god. It's like a broken faucet. My guts sound like a bilge pump clogged with golf balls and cake frosting.
Got laid at work. Yes, AT work, why they let me run this tennis center by myself speaks to their poor judge of character.
The number of mornings I actually have to say out loud to myself "you must put pants on and go to work" to get motivated is...troubling.
I kid you not. He let me in into his house, showed me the putt putt in his backyard. Offered to play me.
its like my accent is a device for a 100% chance of sex every time i leave the apartment. i love being english in this country.
It does not feel like it was just this morning that I had a penis in multiple cavities of my body
Nothing says “I spent too much in Vegas” quite like eating a jar of pickles for dinner and planning on cream of celery soup for breakfast tomorrow.
Sorry. I was preoccupied thinking about penises
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