Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
They wont let us in. Theyve some sort of no Daft Punk costume rule
i might even pee on it at walmart i am so nervous
Also how the fuck did i get like 30 brown napkins
the point i decided it was time to leave was when i was on the floor of the bar, after taking her down with me, and a table.
I was barred out and drunk as fuck locked out at 3am in my Indian costume. It was literally freezing outside. I laid down on the concrete and made a bonfire with dry leaves. Then proceeded to ask.the.bonfire nicely to "please dont go out". Drunk me went strait up survival mode.
Touche. Dude, I fastened garters. Drunk. I deserve a medal from a drag queen.
The exact people you expect to find at a bar at 2pm are here. Come visit. We'd really like the company.
So, no matter what happens today, hold on to this. At least you're not naked under your ex husband's trench coat being stopped by the police who also work with your ex husband. Long story. Actually, not a long story. That's it.
I was struggling morally, but once I let go, I came pretty hard.
Good, I've got all this booze. It's intimidating to be in the room alone with it..
YOU UNCULTURED BADGER
doc says my ankle might be broken, they're going to do xrays. He asked me what happened and I told him if he could find out that would be great.
I'm too drunk to make ramen. What the fuck is this.
They should invent shampoo and conditioner for sex hair. I would buy all the travel size ones.
Randomize
