Tell Heather sorry for burning her hair. Also for anything else that I may have done that warrants and apology. Anything after about 10pm is kind of hazy.
I believe that I finger-banged my way to the top of the corporate ladder.
so was this before or after i puked down the ice luge?
she got to the point every few minutes she checked to see if her boobs were still there.
Not enough clothes on. Not enough vagina. Not enough drugs in my body.
Def walking back to my apt with a blender, an empty vodka bottle, and a half eAtn drumstick cone.
You were outside the bathroom the gay guy was puking in, screaming "IT GETS BETTER!" over and over again. Good message, poor execution.
I'm basically just sitting in the porta poTty finishing my bottle of champagne bc I am too lazy to carry it back to the tailgate
I wanna die of smoke inhalation. In a huge teepee. Or one of those big things kids in kindergarten have that you throw up in the air then sit inside of.
I cooked you Mac and cheese when I was drunk and drugged. That counts for about 4 meals. Try harder
He's worked out some sort of arangment where all three of them are dating each other and they've all moved into an apt. with two king beds pushed together
A true beacon of hope in these dark times
I'll be there in a few.
I'M COUNTING TO FEW.
Omg that was my second thought of the morning.
First was that we had pop tarts.
In honor of the new administration, I'm going to make it my goal this weekend to get some lesbian action. Fuck Donald Trump and fuck Mike Pence. I'm going to be a spiteful gay.
Do you remember standing up at 3 in the morning and asking me if I was counting to six?
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