Hindsight: maybe I should have included a few transitional texts in between talking about your son and my need to have sex. Do over?
I made popcorn. Partly so the room doesn't smell like sex, and partly to apologize for the things you saw when you walked in...
The one from last night got me a whole floor of Eskimo Brothers. There was a celebration of high fiving as I left
So we are lighting beer bottles on fire and breaking them in half to make glasses
That sounds dangerous
Don't worry......were wearing oven mits.
She looked at me and said "i like penises." and then passed out with her condom balloon animal in her hands.
I'm eating the rest of the Xmas shrooms and welcoming 2012 by communing with the pine cone.
cocks speak louder than words, as they say
Nobody says that.
What does puking wasabi feel like?
Like snorting cocaine backwards.
Ok so last thing I remember was hugging a cop while vomiting
can we for just one second remember that I played with a homeless man's rat at st marks?
I'm like an air traffic controller of women. It's a very similar job. Well spaced and gentle landings are good. When they meet, it's bad. Explosions bad. Dying screaming burning children bad.
my balls were so many shades of blue last night I could have used them as paint and replicated the entirety of Picaso's blue period. The girl was an art major I feel like this metaphor is appropriate.
And in that, my finest lazy stoner moment, I used my cleavage to hold my bowl steady while I packed it laying down in bed.
Dont worry, the Canadians are more afraid of you then you are of them.
burned my penis with a sauteed onion again.
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