Sry I called you an 8
another moral hangover. fuck.
My main thought on the Olympics: I need LESS cowbell.
You'd be surprised at how many crooked penises are out there
so im sitting outside the gym eating a 20 piece nugget stoned out of my mind, convincing myself this is more productive because im so close to the treadmills.
IDK but this explains my bloody dashboard.
My mom just invited me to come with them on their honeymoon to Mexico this summer. And I got a Bump-It in my stocking.
Pass the awkward sauce please.
I'm drowning in it here
In that case, I'll try 2 find a date. But my options are AA friends or fuck buddies.
I think I'm gonna quit partying for awhile. Piercing my own nose is where I draw the line.
I gotta say, I do way better with the ladies than I do the men. So if it turns out being gay is a choice, then I'm going to go ahead and choose it.
So I bring Danny back to the apartment for the first time and my roommate is curled up in the beanbag in the middle of the floor, wearing nothing but her uggs, high out of her mind and watching Harry potter... She offered us kettle corn.
He asked if he could come over tomorrow....
Ok I've processed it. Who the fuck makes out drunk in a parking lot in a backseat with the windows down in the middle of the day?!?!
No? The only contact I've had with him for months was when I drunk texted him from Costa Rica to say that all jazz sounds the same
Preface: Im drunk. But i think id make a good assasin. That is all.
he literally walked in took a shit and left ringing the 'great service' bell on the way out.
Randomize
