Honestly there's alot of things I'm confused about the only thing I know for certain about last night is that I ate pizza
this stripper weighs a pound. I feel like I should tip her in food.
Just called the consul general of France "dude"
pooping with feet up on an ottoman about level with the toilet is nice
Nothing like an alcohol-fueled, 6-hour-long hunt for weed--complete with occasional breaks for sex.
He was dressed up as Jesus and had vodka in one hand while he was blessing everyone and splashing them with holy water in the bathroom.
My life has become one weird ass game. No one wins. No one loses. We all just kind of hang in limbo and hope we don't die. Eskimo sisters for life. Please have sex with one of them.
Dude. My knees have no hair on them and they're bruised. My thigh is killing me. I have about 1000 texts to about 5 exes which I horribly regret. I have pictures of my own penis on my phone. I can't find my iPad. And I have work in an hour.
Had a guy offer me a shot. But he wimped out when I asked for tequila and instead ordered gummi bear shots. I don't think he has balls. I didn't stick around to find out.
Last night you told me you "were too high" and didn't deserve a hashbrown.
I woke up in someone's flat in Budapest and then got offered a free piercing before I left. Best. Hookup. Ever.
Like you haven't hit rock bottom until you have had to throw your own turd out a window
but if we have a President Trump come Tuesday, I might throw myself off the Walt Whitman Bridge so Thursday might not work for me after all.
I find nice boys who are in extremely long term relationships with nice girls, wait for them to break up, and sneak in for the rebound fucking.
You are like a terrifying jaguar of sex. Predatory.
Nothing wrong with a little cat scratch fever. You have toys?
A few, plus a dildo molded from a porn star that I've always been too intimidated of to actually use, but it's the apocalypse, and momma didn't raise no quitter.
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