Last night was a blur. All I remember is jizzing in the squeegee bucket at a gas station.
The look on the soccer mom's face was PRICELESS.
Apparently I farted on her in my sleep. Then, just to be sure she was cool, I did it again on purpose and she didnt say anything. So, WIN?
it was my 21st birthday. took an old mans walker so i could stay till last call. reasonable right?
Stoned ambition #8. Must learn sign language.
I've been alternating between telling people I was mauled by a bear or hit by a car to explain the massive unexplainable bruise on my leg. Slightly more worried now that the car idea is believable.
hahaha lucky. I'm fishing with some dude I just met when I woke up next to the mohawk river
I have pictures of you scratching against the sliding glass door on your knees screaming how you felt like a lamb.
As far as figuring life out your talking to a guy that's alternating text messages between his baby mama and a drunk bitch I met tailgating. My best advice is don't worry about shit out of your control and always and I really mean ALWAYS wear a condom.
Your panties and toothbrush are in your mailbox. just not ready to be with anyone serious. take care.
Rehydrating your liver back to life is never a good idea.
Instead of getting a taxi some gay black guy drove us home. He is trying to break into the taxi business
Way to promote small business.
I just want to have normal problems like what kind of puppy to get, or should I pay a hooker to fuck Scott, or even a dilemma about fucking Twizzlers. I don't know.
What we have is to special to throw away over a woman who spreads her butt cheeks on a pool table for me...
Also I've accepted I am not going to be a catch today. I look like a dead hooker and the remedial work is going to be patchy at best with the shakes I've got.
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
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