it was like, one of those nights where you keep going back to the fridge because you just can't get full. except, with sex.
I'm applying temporary tattoos with green beer, this is the life.
He started to lose his balance halfway through his "commencement speech" at the top of the staircase. The rest is bloody, profanity-laiden history.
His kisses tasted like beef jerky and captain morgan. I'm pretty sure I came before he even took my clothes off.
Burnt my ear trying to use the bathroom blow dryer as a telephone.
Fuck that. I'm not afraid to die. I'll prove you can survive on a bagel bites and rum diet.
Hes drunk and dancing naked. I can hear his dick smacking his legs from the next room.
Sorry. Not doing life today. Love to. But can't.
So you're on like a list there now..."Do not under any circumstances give this person a knife. Serve them in plastic cups ONLY"
Of all the things I've masturbated to while high, my favorites are ritz chips and trees
"Don't bang the neighbor, don't bang the neighbor, don't bang the neighbor..." he chanted helplessly
Like I owe him sex. Hell fucking no. I owe myself sex. With a celebrity. Or a clean pornstar. Who knows.
Someone just asked me why I drink so much. Im gonna slap a bitch
I can't believe it is only 1:30...I may have to stab myself with scissors for an excuse to go home...
And when were you going to tell me to stop dancing on his coffee table singing "come on irene?"
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