omg omg i just fucked paul. i need to stop doing this kind of thing.
wait, who's paul?
exactly.
I like when I have the chance to say normal things like 'I know her from college' vs 'I did a ton of blow with her one night at Studio B.'
I smell like I just crawled out of a bottle of champagne and landed on the floor of taco bueno.
He was like a foghorn with a huge penis.
I will pray to the gods of eye bleach for you
All I remember was endless tequila and pulling karate moves from 3 Ninjas Kick Back towards the guy at 7 Eleven. Explanation?
He was handing out home-made business cards that read "finger slamming bitches since 1986"\n
I have a breathe right strip stuck to my forehead, several inexplicable bruises and I think someone tried to paint my nails with glue, but I still have my Santa hat. I'm gonna call this one a success.
I can't remember if I puked before or after the shots of absinthe. Or why I thought shots of absinthe was a good idea.
Considering all of my stomach contents ended up in my center console, I'm a bit peckish.
It was great. He never spoke.
That's not why it was great, just that's all I remember.
He tried to brush a hair off my cheek, but turns out it was just a freakishly long chin hair. So no, we didn't bang.
Last thing I remember I was riding on a picnic table being hauled around by a lawn mower with an empty case of bud light on my head...
You are not allowed to sing ever again, my ears are still ringing.
Whenever I have a bad day I just look at the negetive pregnancy test I keep in my purse and remind myself things could be alot worse.
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