So I just had this crazy idea, and no it has nothing to do with the fact that they made me take shots at work.
I woke up, mistook him for my ex, and started screaming. It was all that chest hair. I don't think this relationship is going anywhere.
Apparently tackling a bar stool and crashing to the floor while yelling for 6 shots of whiskey won't get you thrown out on St Pattys Day.
we need a dd. For wednesday. At lunch. What are we doing with our lives?
succeeding
trying to line up a DD for St Pats Day. i guarantee i will put out. or puke and pass out. really its 50/50 at this point.
I'm chugging Gatorade because i drank something called a trashcan and someone named Gianna diamond has my credit card number, and I think I might have ruined my life.
On a better note: I'm on pace for 730 female produced orgasms in 2013.
Some girl just walked passed me, said "fuck yeah!" and is now crawling up the stairs
His pillow talk sucks. It was like Mr. Roger's vagina.
im just going to make a prayer circle of top ramen packets and cheap beer
I would literally only have sex with a dinosaur right now.
I keep track of what day of the week it is by my recent destinations on my nav system. \nRight now it's: booty call, bar, booty call, brunch, bar, church so that must mean we are getting close to Sunday when we start the rotation all over again.
The man built me a fort. Of course he got laid.
i havent showered for 4 days and i just made my dog smell my arm pit. also, im stoned.
The cure for a hangover evidently is not walking around in a costume in the sun towards of park of screaming children
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