On friday while at the hotel bar by myself (creepy) I made friends w/ a millionaire who said he may be running for the position of mayor in richmond va (likely a lie). At one point during our discourse he asked if I was crazy. In the effort of full disclosure I looked him in the eye and said yes
I don't know what prompted his inquiry, clearly this man had impeccable intuition
You're perfectly engineered for doggy style
You told me you were pretty sure you were god because you knew everything about everyone.
i've lived in the woods for so long, as long as its post-op, i don't care.
as he pulled out he yelled "no kids!" and then passed out on top of me
she fucked me tho cuz it was her cat's birthday. As soon as we were done she just says "ahhh tequila tuesdays"
So it turns out rose was the bear hunting girl. Fuck my life
None of those words made sense together.
Apparently I used ziplock bags to smuggle my drink out with. By pouring it in one, then cut the corner like it was an icing bag later that night. What is wrong with me?
This must be what defeat feels like to Tom Brady today. I bet he wishes he could barf up all of his bad decisions from yesterday, too.
So our trip to Disney World ended in the three of us stripping at a gay club in orlando.
So much easier to puke and rally now that my gluten's under control
we are the apple cider girls!
The thought "Ummm which pants am I wearing? ...I *am* wearing pants, right?" just ran through my head. I'm done. So done.
I've found my soulmate with the cardboard Dos Equis man.
I know. I'm a saint. Saint of sitting on faces.
Its like a glacier coming out of my asshole.
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