Let's just say there is a bloody hand print above my bed and it's not mine. Literally.
it's like your virginity...sometimes you have to pretend like it's still there
This does no justice to the amount of paint I'm covered in or the amount of balls I'm tripping.
All I remember is having a LONG talk with a 23 year old mother with a 5 year old kid at a bar who told me "it's not that bad"
Just you wait I'll be crying and puking everywhere in no time
I'm not trying to be dramatic but if someone makes you choose between getting a Brazilian or dying. For the sake of your sanity just fucking die
I just looked into the eyes of the man whose car I peed on last night
I'm hoping that by this time next year we will be smoking some weed at a gay wedding, asking "Mitt who?"
I posted her number in the m4m casual encounters area of Craigslist.
I guess her always saying "gay men love me!" will finally get put to the test.
Jacked up my neck and shoulder hanging on for dear life while I rode him like a boss. Plus my house smells like broccoli, bad! How's YOUR morning?
I'm hoping my engineering degree will pay off when I invent porn watching in the shower
Literally just napped at strip club. Don't know how long
I know you saw me get knocked out after I stepped on that rake why did you leave me there
I just formed the "shit on a tree in Chicago club." And I feel awful about it.
Just walked into the supermarket puking into a plastic bag while wearing my favorite Bob Ross shirt. I am a human disaster.
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