I just smoked a bowl in the dining room and am now drinking a glass of chocolate milk. i can't believe i'm getting paid for this.
Apparently he always goes for the wrong girl so it should be easy for me to nail him.
I walked downstairs and he was standing in nothing but his boxers with his dick hanging out warming up eggs in the microwave.
I puked on myself in front of a customer. all. over. myself. thanks Saturday nights
Now that there's no chance of him coming over to fuck anymore, I'm going to put up a one-person tent in my bedroom and live in it. My bed reminds me of him.
Pitting the remainder of the bottle against my hangover. I'm expecting an all out cage match for my soul and wellbeing.
So he's compensating for a really small penis. Either that or he's a drug lord.
No. If I hated you would get none. Then I would eat them all in front of you and laugh at your tears. Although that hasn't been ruled out for entertainment purposes. Nothing purposeful.
I think I'm a wingman for every guy who bangs a girl I scarred in highschool.
I woke up today in my boxers hugging a log and realized that I think I've gotten close enough to nature. I really need to stop doing shrooms with you
I just remembered that we had an in-depth conversation about how it was too stressful to wear pants.
I got drunk and tried to make special rice krispie treats, but I made a mess and they were all stuck to my hands, so I just decided to eat my way out of the catastrophe and I think shit's about to get even weirder than usual.
They came over the loud speaker and said "no laying on the dance floor.." I thought i was dancing, but apparently that's just the way it started out.
This whole pope visit thing is ruining me having sex.
He shampooed and conditioned his pubes but can't manscape for shit.
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