We spent three hours cleaning our room this morning. It was spotless and smelling good. I come home from work tonight and she has already smoked weed in it and "accidently" spilled vodka on the floor.
I'm drinking rum and coke straight from the 2 liter bottle.
I'm gonna vom. In the dentist chair. Who makes a dentist appt for July fucking 5th.
You told him you loved him!?
I mean if he translated "Zi luve ku" as that then yes.
i robbed the continental breakfast last night
On the back of that comment, I've formed a theory that as a result of my brainwashing your drunk self actually believes that beards are your calling.
Not drinking has really freed up a lot of my time. I made a bracelet yesterday. I miss bars.
You are not going to get a pat on the back from me for not fucking that 40 year old again.
He has a bathrroom scale in his room with an alarm attached to it so anything over 150 sets it off and in his drinking stupper he can make a run for it.
Also day 6: dick is healed and ready to go back to work.
Blowing lines in the bathroom and trying to get into the mindset of someone who wants to be at work for 12 hours
He's got a british accent, a tounge ring, and he's wearing an eye patch... Of corse I'm fucking him
Just realized tomorrow is the anniversary of the time Dean and I glued DJ's leg back together with Neosporin and an Ace bandage. I'm bringing red velvet cupcakes to the party to celebrate.
Did I just pee in the Taco Bell parking lot?
Yep. But do you remember wiping with my quesadilla?
Just deepthroated a hot dog. Thinking of you
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