Please tell me the foreign boys in the kitchen this morning were yours.
the moment we started interpretive dancing last night wouldve been a good time to stop drinking.
I tipped the hot bartender my entire wallet. Again.
Dude. Apparently I just smoked some stuff that's used for Nigerian spirit quests.
Yeah... I was considering changing that part but the boxed wine is non-negotiable.
Last thing I remember is beer bonging sangria. Dear God.
"I wasn't planning on buying a chicken, but I bought it anyway." --some guy on the bus with a chicken
"Yeah, I only have nine toes." --that same guy
I sent him a bunch of texts telling him that his beard wasn't long enough yet so we couldn't fuck and to text me back in a few hours if it had.
I WILL BE THE BEST FICTITIONAL HISTORICAL FIGURE FOR THE FEMENIST MOVEMENT THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN
It's not so much that I'm giving her money because I threw up on her floor. It's more like I'm paying her to never ever mention it again.
I'm sort of afraid for my life tho. If the 4th of July can be the way it was a DMX show is capable of anything
I don't know, but I assume drunk me had her reasons. I trust her judgement.
seriously, who doesn't want to get shitfaced and have sex to the backstreet boys?
And let me tell you, getting your ass waxed is the weirdest fucking experience.
Too much dab too little lung dying šµšµšµ
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