Paul doesn't remember going to the bar and slept on someone's porch...doesn't know whose porch...maybe near Howard U.
She calls her new ritual "bed, bath, and beyond crunk". Hence why I found her passed out in my bath tub this morning.
As weird as that was it was probably the best advice i've ever gotten from a tranny
his blanket is still in the back seat of my car, its like a constant reminder of his small penis
to whom it may concern. if i am dead in colleens bed it is not her fault i slept in my scarf. my dads middle name is ronald.
Well would you like to come over anyway? I will be wearing sweatpants and disappointment. Also, I have Jack Daniels and I've managed to get drunk in under half an hour. But my boobs look awesome.
Oh god. I asked to "play his sexaphone" which I though was a super sex way to say "let me blow you". He fucking walked home at 4:30am
I am gathering blankets and bags of horse grain to pad my truck bed so I have a comfy place to crash when I get home, without the inconvenience of stairs. Or doors. Or walking. But with the refreshing scent of molasses.
Just saw our highschool guidance counselor at the bar and he's taken six shots in the last hour. Those teenagers have fucking hardened him.
I may or may not have definitely said the words "how do I put this beer in my purse without looking like an alcoholic" last night.
I'm suffering a hangover from deep within. I feel like the half of the parts of my body are permanently laced with alcoholic substances
Like I owe him sex. Hell fucking no. I owe myself sex. With a celebrity. Or a clean pornstar. Who knows.
Had to lock my cat in the bathroom so I could masturbate in peace.
And I broke things off with Justin last night. Except I texted him while he was asleep and then I was like well, that's probably not what he wants to wake up to, so I sent him a picture of the coconut I microwaved and caught on fire when I was really high one time.
Speaking of dumpster fires, your ex tried to add me on Facebook
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