So i closed my laptop as i started to fall off my bed and then i caught myself and realized that moment of catching myself is the difference between tuesday and friday.
September 16th, captains log. I awoke in a daze, not sure of my location
I just want uncharted vagina. Fresh and ripe.
I am drunk. Riding an elevator. You can smell the beer. Doctor on with me just smiling at me... He agrees, fuck cancer.
As far as drugs go, alcohol has all the elegance and precision of hitting yourself in the head with a hammer.
I just want him to come back from NOLA alive, without an arrest record or stripper glitter on his clothes...
Those seems like unreasonable expectations for a bachelor party honestly...
I'LL COME GET YOU. GOTTA FIND A SUIT THAT COVERS TIT BRUISES FIRST.
"what's it like being a dancer turned stoner" well, i can change the netflix using my feet mid bongrip, so there's that.
I'm drinking coffee out of a pasta sauce jar and eating fruit soaked in Smirnoff. I think I've hit rock bottom.
The fact that he quoted freebird as his breakup speech was a little more classy than expected
best way to lose double chin? blow jobs. I am fucking hurting.
You literally chaperoned my booty call.
This is me trying to take a picture to send to grandma. At 4. We were trying to look sober.
Long story short I shit on a sidewalk while walking with multiple people. Then sprinted around the streets of Tallahassee in only gym shorts as I tore my toga off and wore it as a cape.
Yah. I'm gonna lay you down and feed you grapes, except I'm gonna replace grapes for my balls
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