it doesn't mae me god, the fact that I am god makes getting dressed futile and tedious... btw i am still drunk
sometimes i shoot so far i amaze even myself.
I'll be waiting for you under the stairs with peanut butter and tequila ... Don't tell the neighbors
You know why I moved here? No public intoxication law. A cop just helped me from my bent over vomit pose, asked if I was ok, and gave me a ride home.
And "sexual slave/chef" was as it turns out not a real career choice...
Thanks for not stopping me when I decided to call my mom at 2 in the morning to ask her where I was born
He told me he's not in to anal. I need to marry him, ASAP.
my last clear memory of the night was being offered a shot but having so much alcohol in my hands that someone literally had to pour it in my mouth for me. after that it pretty much skips to waking up face down and shirtless on my floor.
At the start of the night I was all 'come at me universe' and three hours later I was ordering an extra large pizza in bed in the dress I had gone out in. Well played universe.
You leaned over so she could squirt ketchup in your hair and then started chanting "KETCHUP NIGHT!! KETCHUP NIGHT!!!"
I feel like she is getting all kinds of bacterial exposure that may otherwise have been avoided had she been wearing pants
What if he stabs me in the back, mid-orgasm, as I sit on his face? It'd be a miraculous way to go but that's not the point
I've talked to too many cops in one week and I haven't even committed any crimes. I hate the suburbs
Homeboy just asked me to strip for him. He should not be this horny and allowed to be in Vegas with his kid.
I don't care how many things you caught on fire, it's still not as bad as doing coke and then filming yourself having sex.
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