I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
We were laughing at the passed out guy who had gone to sleep under the car in the McDonald's lot until we realized it was you.
you asked "if this appropriate to take the the bathroom?" while holding up a bottle of vodka when you went to pee.
Fine then. I'll just do all this coke on my own this weekend and die. It'll be strictly your fault.
I was sitting on the floor of CVS chugging white grape juice until someone asked me to leave.
His fuck buddy just got fake tits and wants him to 'come break them in.' I need his life.
Believe it or not, that's part of the whole 'best friend' thing. It's not just yelling at me for making you leave the club early or taking the couch bc I'm doing sex while you're doing bjs.
I'm having flashbacks from last night. Did I admit to pausing Whitney's funeral because I was watching porn? I believe I did.
I should work for the FBI. Or planned parenthood.
That's quite a broad spectrum. What did you do?
Well I woke up and my arm was bleeding. And my blood is on the wall in the hallway.
Umm
No idea. I blame fireball.
Valid.
What's the worst that could happen? I'm already broke and my leg's already broken
she fell asleep in a torn bush after playing cards at a nursing home.
my grandpa paid for my boob job but he just doesn't know it.
I went out with a plan. I came home with a Brian. THIS WAS NOT PART OF THE PLAN.
I'm over being sad. I'm now onto thinking about all the ways in which he is a total fuckwaste
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