there's paper in my vomit.
the other night i did but this one wasnt and it was so random. i was hooking up with this boy who wanted to roleplay and pretend to be snakes
9 am. shotgunning while conditioning my hair. i love college football season.
im trying to make cookies in the george foreman
She asked me how I live with myself. I told her one night at a time.
for future reference: playing drunken strip-twister is a euphemism for a threesome. just thought you should know.
Yeah, clearly. And then we can float around my room on Christmas themed inner tubes. And drink, I guess.
Steve called. He needs me to pick him up. He also asked for a set of his clothes, he can't find them. He is such a strong motivation to stay sober.
Imagine getting smashed in the dick by a basketball. A basketball made of metal. With spikes. That's pretty much what his dick looked like.
you slapped the bag of goldfish out of her hands and screamed, "BITCH THIS AINT NO AQUARIUM". That's how fucked up
I'll just tell you, some how when we were having sex on Friday my collarbone got fractured.
Just a reminder- you dropped broccoli in my car and then felt bad for it and named him Henry
I know. I miss henry.
I just broke into my house with a butter knife. It kinda scares me just how easy that was.
His hair is as curly as mine. It was like watching me go down on myself.
Can we skype so I'm not drinking alone?
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