i don't remember her name, but i don't need it unless we decide to hook up again. but even then, i can get away with not knowing it for a while. it's not like we have actual conversations.
It's always a relief to be able to look at some one, and remind yourself that there IS some one who gets laid less then yourself.
ugh. my soul tastes like vodka
You kept saying thank you to the automatic toilet as it flushed your puke.
Legitimately semi-blackout across the table from the governor off a chardonnay i can't even pronounce.
I can feel the fear and stress bubbling in my stomach. Or maybe that is the pregnancy.
My mom had to physically restrain me because I wouldn't stop acting like a dinosaur.
And I was chasing apple pie moonshine (provided by cops) with bud light limeys. In a golf cart, wearing a tiara.
I met a pornstar at his bachelor party and signed his shirt giving him wedding advice
I told her it would be awesome. We are all the same people. One of us would always be drunk, one of us would always be hooking up, and one of us would always be crying into a pancake.
I'm sorry, that really sucks. I'm in the bath eating lasagna and if anyone comes in here it's going to be bad news for them
I apologize for using the phrase "monster cock hentai porn shit" to describe that guy I picked up last week.
When I go to hand him the blunt and he's eating a cookie and responds with "let me hit this cookie"
I just don't understand why we can't have sex in the house. I'll come see you but I'll have to think about the barn thing.
If you wanna fuck the pudding, fuck the pudding. Just not the chocolate, Im gonna eat that.
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