I have discovered something important. The trick to making food taste better is not always 'more hot sauce'.
In my 8 am class there was a pack of birth control on the board with a note saying, "Some dude somewhere is unhappy."
I swear it started with good intentions but then my slutty side took over and we started playing strip checkers
He said and I quote "Had to beat one off in the Burger King bathroom before I went over." Thats somebody that takes pride in his work.
In other news: I found out that my mom used to fuck my newest fuck buddy's dad when they were in school.
We went rollerblading down high street singing "Free Falling"in ketchup and mustard costumes. A car full of guys drove by and yelled out their window "Need a hot dog with that?!" Naturally, we woke up at their apartment.
THIS CHICK IS LIKE SOME SORT OF HOOKER HOUDINI.
By early evening I was shouting at the deeply Christian girl to suck my dick inbetween snorting lines of gatorade powder.
I just told the sun to stop. That hungover.
Up until today, I never would have thought I'd have to tell someone not to color on the cat
I don't think I've ever met a guy with a bush bad enough that I would choose a cactus over it.
No worries, I've prioritized my homework into "can do drunk" and "should be sober" categories. We're good.
Self care is breaking into nasa and launching yourself directly into the fucking void
Just told my dad about my heroic mailbox showdown. He looked at me strange. I think he thinks I'm high.
You are high.
I had a dream that I was smoking rasberries out of a bong. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DRIED...
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