So I finally got the Patron washed off my boobs.
yeah that always happens. i'm like the where's waldo of parties. i never even know where the fuck i'm at.
I want the one making out with the dumpster. Is that bad?
Just saw two dudes run across the street carrying a mini keg and a scaled model of the empire state building. Missed this town
Where the hell is he. I called him crying for weed and sex you would think that would signal some urgency.
you invented a new sport called "bacon pulling" and you cried everytime a piece broke
Hello and welcome to the game 'Matt needs weed'! Rules are simple: first one to find a bag wins the fabulous prize of getting stoned with yours truly. Thank you for playing and good luck!!
The attempted closet masturbation was unforgivable.
That was the most fucked up I've ever seen him. He had the fucking Canola Oil!
I'm surprised I didn't lose anything last night. Except maybe my dignity but other than that we gucci.
I dont' remember leaving St. Cloud, getting home, or apparently directing traffic in the middle of the fucking street while black out drunk.
The fact that I can sew my leggings while intoxicated proves I'm a functioning alcoholic
but seriously, an anthropology paper shouldn't be hard if you're trashed, right?
I need dunkaroos back in my life.
Well I finally got to say all the things I wanted to say. Including telling him he looks like a naked mole rat
I can't be a daydrinker without you. It just doesn't work.
I love you too.
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