can't come. weird drunk guy passed out on couch. long story, tell u later.
wtf. wake him up, call him a cab, get over here!
i just want to make sure he doesn't die. or rob me. plus it's facinating, he's faceplant on the arm of my sofa.
i killed an earwig and left its corpse on the wall as a warning
i broke up with my boyfriend last night because i had to eat a freezy pop in every color and he ate the last blue one. i sat on the floor and cried for an hour at least. everyone left. so i decided that this whole weed thing isnt really healthy for my relationships.
i know. thats why i need an open bar. i'll get hammered and make a toast about how his dick is like the titanic. large, but full of failure.
And PS thanks for calling it my "sexual liberation" and not "slut fest 2010: part deux!"
He probably smells like baby powder and sexual identity crisis.
What was she thinking? I'm not in the business of charity fucks anymore.
All I've eaten today is cookie dough, pecan pie and three shots of jack. Finals week here I come.
I just farted a soft, gentle fart and it made me think of the eye puff glaucoma test at the eye dr. I hope that's not fart air they use for those. And yes, I'm texting you from the toilet and yes again, I'm high.
I mean like if I stood up my head might pull me down like an anchor
THE MAINTENANCE MEN WERE DOWN STAIRS AND I THOUGHT THEY WERE MY MOM. I'VE BEEN YELLING 'GRILL ME A CHEESE' AT THEM FOR HALF AN HOUR
THIS IS NOT A DECISION I MADE AT ONE IN THE MORNING IM JUST GETTING AROUND TO TELLING YOU ABOUT IT NOW
Running my fingers through my hair is like that scene from Patch Adams where the girl goes swimming in a pool of spaghetti. I love molly.
Then he asked if he could pee on me and things really went downhill
All I want right now is a waffle and some fried chicken and a penis.
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