Something in my vomit makes me think I shouldn't have had that slurpee
I learned much from the teen babysitter: I can light a cigarette in a microwave.
Im dancing with my grandma to Low right now at the wedding. There's no coming back from this.
I ended up with a bullet proof vest and I still don't know his last name.
I face planted right in front of a cop. He looked at me, shook his head, mumbled "freshman" under his breath, helped me up and told us to get home safely. I love college.
Posting happy birthday to my grandpa on Facebook.... Then realizing my profile pic is me dressed as a slutty cop when he used to be a police officer.
I tried to pay my tab and go home but she wrote me a "list of things I'm good at" with fellatio as no 1...
That works. I won't care. I'll be a mermaid. Mermaids don't give a fuck.
Especially drunk mermaids.
You know the cave of wonders in Aladdin? That's how I feel about his apartment. Except with blow and other treasures.
I know, but the fabulousness of my baggies should not be what defines my business as a drug dealer.
If my neighbors have super loud sex again tonight, I'm going to leave a ball-gag and roll of duct tape in their mail slot.
I think I'm going to call this chapter of my life story "Weekday day-drinking in the park isn't just for the homeless!"
Completely unrelated and mildly related, a guy I hooked up with last year in a threeway died, his obit photo was his Grindr photo
...I just melted into my bed. I am one with the bed. I am 600 thread count.
Played Gay Bar on the jukebox and pissed off the Republicans here. Best day before birthday ever.
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