I judge my drunkenness on my brickbreaker playing skills. I'm winning. Suck it.
oh vodka. i could write you a sonnet.
She has an album entitled "my photography", which consists of about 80 different pictures of a tractor that she took on her cell phone. I'm all for freedom of expression, but come on.
This is the moment in my life where I take a fork in the "nice guy" road ive traveled for 23 years and fuck everything in sight that doesnt have herpes, or is in-between flare ups and I don't know about it until my dick is on fire.
Wait..I think something else did happen last night my vagina is too pleased for this level of hangover..
Now I know he's not trying to fuck me. He took me to lunch at White Castle.
Not drinking has really freed up a lot of my time. I made a bracelet yesterday. I miss bars.
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
You're like the fucking Mozart of sexting.
I'm really glad I had vomit on my sweater when I met his sister.
we should most definitely have a fire extinguisher in the apartment. like... for sure
I would go disguised as someone he didn't have premature ejaculative sex with but I don't know if I could stay in character.
I possibly am a tad bit not really but maybe slightly intoxicated.
I fought off a bull with my bare hands while he went off to have sex with her against a wall. I’m more upset about the fact that no one is acknowledging what I did.
How does it make you feel that I can't control my vagina around you?
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