So I came home baked last night and made about 60% of my jeans into jorts...
I think I pulled my groin stumbling back from the bar. That or the hippo I woke up next to.
Also, at 1:30 I emailed myself saying, "are you there Margaret? It's me, god"
test run with donkey pinata disastrous. broken glass and tequila EVERYWHERE
I have a video (on my shattered iphone) of a random DJ at some bar giving me a birthday shoutout and texts from random numbers talking about birthday sex. My birthday is in April... Happy birthday to me?
The goal for tonight is vagina. In and around. Doesn't matter who. How. Or why.
I'm going out with a guy whose nickname is Shark Week cause he'll eat anyone. I'm very excited.
Its official, if she bites your dick through your jeans, ya'll go together. A lesson you shouldn't have to learn after the fact.
He was humming "here comes Peter cottontail" while unbuttoning his pants. Happy Easter to me
Get off me. I'm done. I want a cookie.
Dude my body has gone into shock from not eating frozen pizza and chips. I've been shitting like Richard Simmons after a night out of twerking in a corn field
I'm wearing sunglasses around my house. Douchebag status. The hangover is real.
I woke up with a hangover and a man bun. Reached over to drink water and accidentally chugged raspberry vodka. So there's that.
Just zoned back in to real life and found myself chanting "noodle eater noodle eater noodle eater" at my parrot as he devoured a single macaroni
You'd think that a rotation of two 30 year old men could keep me satisfied... WHY ISN'T THERE A MAN THAT CAN KEEP UP WITH MY HEALTHY SEXUAL APPETITE?!
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