we're blogging at a bar
I am slurping my drink like I am going to the electric chair
that's the second time you've been mistaken as a prostitute. maybe life is trying to tell you something
its my fault though, i'm wearing tights
you're hiking in tights? you remind me of dennis quaid's fiance in the parent trap
also, you're talking to the girl for whom "deformed baby arm" wasn't quite a dealbreaker.
she said if she won the lottery she'd fuck me... isn't that like government funded prostitution?
we put the last xanax in the middle and played hungry hungry hippos to see whod get it
fair is fair
He set 8 alarms to make sure I took my birth control on time..
its not like she's the last girl on the planet with symmetrical breasts and great skin
The guy I wanted to make out with just got beat up, let's roll.
then he tried to tell me how many times he had seen Scott's dick. his estimate was about 180 times. he thought I didn't understand.
Well the good news is my "i'm an adult" dinner party went well, they all brought wine and complimented my cooking abilities. the bad news is i woke up with the leftovers in my bed/on my face
On a separate but also a very relevant note, can we practice drinking wine like real people?
All I know is that at 4 am I was walking down the street in my bra and his shorts and Im pretty sure I passed my grandma on her morning walk.
Is it weird to befriend your older alcoholic landlords?
I had to google some of the kinky sex shit she was telling me she was into.
If that is not a reason to propose to her then I don't know what is
I JUST PETTED A FUCKING SQUIRREL. A SQUIRREL.
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