I really wish I could go back in time to change the course of events that led to me sitting on the internet at 3 Googling 'Traumatic masturbation' while talking to you about failed dates, and running a virtual restaurant in a video game.
First shot of my 21st. 11 a.m. in econ class. Success.
My eyes got the double whammy. Once with pepperspray from the riot the other with cum. Both of which i did nothing to deserve.
You kept referring to your penis as "this guy."
They just both started mumbling "i cant go home like this" "it's all over my face" "do you have extra pants?"
naw. unless you want me to sit in a corner, not understand english and eat all of your cheese then i don't think it's a good idea.
I'm not leaving bed today. And i guess my drunken ass last night hit my roommate in the face with a tiki torch then proceeded to cry while carrying around a picture of he who must not being name. I'm a piece of work.
I just soaked a sugar cookie in nail polish remover to clean off my nails because I was too lazy to walk to the bathroom to get a cotton ball. Is this what rock bottom feels like?
So I've been spending my morning trying to figure out if there's a corealation between Wednesday margarita night and the boat that's now in my living room.
Last night she walked off and disappeared from everyone got home at 330 and said she went to the casino with her cab driver.
Mom and I shoplifted today. Her idea.
Retirement sounds fun.
I'm so drunk. Remember me this way.
I say I'm working from home on conference call days, but really I just mute the phone, put that shit on speaker so I can hear what's going on, and let Marcus fuck my brains out.
Someone who makes you cum so hard that you have an asthma attack is clearly your soulmate
Nothing says Happy Thanksgiving like picking cocaine boogers out of your nose at your parents house.
Randomize
