things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
My sole motivation for showering this morning was to masturbate. Something is wrong here...
Just turned rock'em sock'em robots with my little cousin into a drinking game. Im drinking bourbon hes drinking hot chocolate.
Well I turned her sobriety into my own personal drinking game
Um...any recollection of peeing in the pantry
I don't know whether to call the hospital or call the prison first.
I am in a hotel room with 10 people. John is in bed eating an industrial sized pan of mashed potatoes. I think a non insignificant number of people saw my nipples.
I dont' remember leaving St. Cloud, getting home, or apparently directing traffic in the middle of the fucking street while black out drunk.
I put purple lights under my bed and asked him if he wanted to fuck in a spaceship.
You have to give it to him that he fucked me out of the dull weekdays.
Regardless I WANT TO BE YOUR SEX DISPENSARY. that is like the career I was born for.
I may or may not have just had sex in the bed of a pick-up at a drive-in movie theater.
You're going to literally shit your fucking unholy pants when Jesus rides in with his dual light-sabers on his velociraptor and cleaves you in half.
I actually talked to his parents last night about it. haha. I had a bottle of smirnoff in my hand, I'm sure they took me serious.
You know you're out of shape when you're sore after masturbating.
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