when i came out to my mom, it was over brunch. i was eating a banana. not exactly my smartest breakfast choice.
I'm hard boiling eggs, drinking rum, and talking to my 8 year old brother about the 10's times tables. This is what thursday is all about.
YOU SUCK AT REPLYING IM IRRESPOSNIBLY DRUNK WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH YOU LIFE. celebrate the magicness with me.
it was all good until he screamed "for fraaannnceee" on his last thrust
I'm trying not to drink. I may fall down if I move. This is bad. I had everclear before the bar. Oh no. Oh no. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
All right cuz right now I'm in one of those moods where the shear thought of doing anything more strenuous than making a sandwich has me wanting to curl up in the feeble position and splash around in a puddle of my own tears.
begin the sex magic rocket ship countdown
If you haven't seen a huge black man in tiny red snowflake shorts that barely cover his dick, then you don't know what I'm going through.
The cab driver is now flexing at a red light...
AND I JUST GOT FUCKING DAUGHTER ZONED. NO. I'M DONE. I HATE BOYS. ASEXUALITY HERE I COME.
The last thing I remember is crying and shaking my head as she was putting salt on my hand. I guess I took the shot
I'm basically flying you out for a long weekend of sex and going to the zoo
I'm cool with that
note: just because the casino is called bourbon street, it doesn't mean you can puke and keep walking and no one will care. chalk me up for another 86
Best ethics paper a stoner could write. I called my professor Dr. Superfly Arandia. And I'm pretty sure I used "respect the hustle" somewhere in there too.
I feel a little uneasy about having my grandma sleep in my bed that I've banged chicks in not too long ago... Fuckin blizzards
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