I have a ginormous moral hangover. Strip club blues.
story update. I'm locked out of my house. Walk of shame advisory extended...
I can't believe we had "50th anniversary of man in space" sex.
Standards? I'm sitting on his couch eating microwaved ramen wearing his wife's t-shirt. I don't remember what having standards even feels like.
AND BY FEELINGS I MEAN VODKA
All i remember his him yelling yahtzee while pouring beer down her shirt .
I'm curious as to what my outfit choices drunk me made for this weekend.
The three of us were sitting silently in my dining room at 4:30 am, half drunk, eating cold spaghetti and listining to death metal. I need a fucking cigarette.
I just peed on a rich man's lawn fuck yeah America
I wanna die. I can't recall the last time I was happy that doesn't involve your hand touching my butt.
I don't even care if you were high. The fact that I've been begging for us to have those cinnamon rolls for months and you didn't even save me one is not ok.
I'm storing dick pics, so basically if I'm still single after residency...ur gonna get bombarded. It's gonna be a blizzard of dicks.
Feel free to keep your blizzard of dicks to yourself.
You made me brush your teeth last night......for 47 minutes.
I'm glad I didn't see Grandma stumbling drunk and peeing herself...it would be like seeing my future.
this is the second night in a row i've fucked a guy i met on craigslist. and it wasn't even a post for sex. i posted a housing ad. A HOUSING AD
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