Oddly enough when I decided to stop whoreing myself out... I lost most of my companionship.
someone needs to make a hangover cure that isn't cocaine.
for the record, graham crackers won't get the taste of cock out of your mouth. also we're out of graham crackers
Middle of vacation, he walked into an audition for a Broadway musical in a drunken stupor. I think he got the part.
The sun is gonna brush it's hairy dick across my forehead in the morning, gently whispering: "you're 4 hours late for work"
you ate dog biscuits in front of my dogs and laughed at them for not have opposable thumbs
PLEASE. I won't throw up on the floor this time. Or fuck in the bathroom. Or dance on the pool table. So PLEASE.
Had to immediately delete the Bevmo email because I can't even look at an email about alcohol right now.
I was so high the sounds of a cricket drove me out of my home at 4am.... Boo that fucking cricket
If I'm going to risk life and limb to wear a Wings jersey to the Garden next week, the least they can do is win.
And the most would be ending up in bed with one of them.
he has a party story that rivals our "PTSD- soldier-with-a-knife" party story. I'm pretty sure this is part of some prophecy.
Date #3: He brought me a mason jar full of organic weed that he grew on his property. Will you be the witness when we sign our marriage license?
We were having a serious discussion about Blue's Clues and I just kept thinking, 'you've seen me naked'.
I just changed all my morning alarms to wake me up with different Jesse McCartney songs telling me I'm beautiful. Would you believe I'll be 25 this year?
We're sitting on the kitchen floor drinking and talking about mounting real light sabers to the dog's head.
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