There's an old bald Japanese dude on the metra next to me. He's drinking MGD on a crowded train, and rocking out way too hard to what may be the same Dallas Green song I'm listening to. Life is sweet.
he used his one phone call on me and it said "you have a collect call from- LETS GET IT- at the montgomery county jail".
so it turns out, not only do the doormen judge the girls I bring home, but they rate them.
i can't sleep with him. he has a scrapbook from the girl he lost his virginity to.
Tell me you remember me getting a tampon from the girl throwing up in the next stall
Turns out my drunken logic and wordsmithing isn't quite the same as the sober version. I'm pretty sure I made fun of the managers mom at one point
Maybe before the beach I should get a tracking chip in my arm.
Thank god I didn't get free from the hospital restraints. I wouldent have lasted long drunk, startled and in an ass-less gown In D.C.
I SHOULD NOT BE HAVING AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS OVER PIZZA
I sent my roommate a text from MY phone that said, "I don't know where my phone is." Must've been a good night.
It's like sleep walking but with blowjobs
Apparently karate chopping the fronts off all the paper towel and soap dispensers in the bathrooms isn't even frowned upon. Like even at the third bar when I fell flat on my back trying to jump kick the last one some guy just helped me up and high fived me. America.
Pretty sure I got at least one girl to question her sexuality at the Christmas party last night
Thus began an intricate shell game of nude cardigan photos
i let a mormon finger me. i don't ever want to be that drunk again.
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