I'm sorry my penis didn't work
if you don't let us come over today i'm not taking the second plan b pill. your call.
Can you still call it a wet dream if sandwiches were involved?
I'm questioning the dried chocolate syrup on my tits.
Was just walking through the park by the river. Saw some random in a tree, we climbed up, blazed with him and bought a bag. In the tree. Real shit.
I did, I'm just saying. Once the drinking starts my nipples are no longer my control.
Nope, sorry. Already took my bra off. All down hill from here. My next act will be crying, singing, and eating girl scout cookies in the shower. You can come watch the shit show though.
I got laughed at by a homeless guy in a Daniel Boone hat. I have no clue what this means for my day
MAYDAY. glass in foot, have crush on guy with mullet.life is over.
Why is it that when I sustain a serious injury people are more concerned with my level of inebriation than my personal safety?
The dominatrix coworker is currently listening to pop music that has been translated into an Irish dialect and sung by high school kids. Every day gets weirder here.
Sooooooo, can scratch getting a pelvic exam by a man dressed as Woody from Toy Story off my list.
You need to write an essay about this experience.
He was even wearing the hat.
We power houred with shots of red wine. Somehow we ended up with 7 bottles and lost Chris. Trying to find him this hungover is proving very unsuccessful.
When you realized the door was unlocked, you did the mission impossible yheme song and snuck into the bathroom. And continued it while you peed.
The economy isn’t reopen until I can get drunk and motorboat fake tits at lunch on a Wednesday
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