I am good. I dancing. Drinking but dancing fine.
Our house smells like week old pizza, beer cans, cigarettes, and depressing career tracks....get lysol.
Hungover. Be in at noonish. Turn my monitor on and put a hot cup of coffee on my desk so the boss thinks I'm in
I just set a weed brownie on fire in the microwave.
Successful day.
Someday soon you'll wake up next to a bottle of jameson and a half eaten lean cuisine and then you'll be just like me.
The Swedes wanted a tensome.
I wouldn't necessarily say I'm in her pants...I'd say I'm more on the on ramp to the freeway to the long way to her pants. There really isn't a short cut.
I have bruises on my ass from her spurs. God bless Texas.
The entire time I'm blowing him she's in the back seat lecturing me on the reasons why you're not suppose to do that while they're driving...
He had to carry me to the car. But then sat with me and waited for me to sober up enough to have sex. He's a keeper.
Ps. I feel like I may pee myself this weekend. Either drunkenly or out of excitement. Toss up
I stuck a note to his door with my gum explaining why i couldn't spend the night. as i was walking away, he opened the door...i fell down and played dead. deffinitly didn't see me.
Fantastic. I'm pretty cold, tired, dirty, and hungry, but that comes with an adventurous weekend. Who needs a wallet or keys anyway? I could totally be homeless.
If you think for one second that I would forget Mardi Gras, you clearly don't know how much I love boobs.
Just participated in the saddest thing: Cheetos. Handjob. I have lost at life
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