they're scary. like turkeys that ate nuclear fucking steroids.
She asked me how I live with myself. I told her one night at a time.
If you're trying to subtly tell me that I look like Connie Chung, just stop it. I already know.
When I was in the bathroom and wiped with a paper towel I found in the trashcan, I realized that this might be the reason I have a yeast infection.
I found out his name. Apparently we sat in the shower together and flooded the bathroom.
I was barred out and drunk as fuck locked out at 3am in my Indian costume. It was literally freezing outside. I laid down on the concrete and made a bonfire with dry leaves. Then proceeded to ask.the.bonfire nicely to "please dont go out". Drunk me went strait up survival mode.
You tried to fight everyone, so we kept having her take her shirt off. You were sufficiently distracted...
Like for real, is your junk ok? I have to look after my investments.
You shouted, "LOOK I'M HAWKEYE," and beaned mike with a dildo from across the room.
My purpose is to unleash drunk self on strangers, i believe as some terrifying icebreaker, otherwise i too would offer my driving services.
My moral compass cannot be waived by two measly bloody Mary's
Blowing lines in the bathroom and trying to get into the mindset of someone who wants to be at work for 12 hours
It's hard picking what to wear when you know the plan is sex. Like can't I just wear my robe let's just simplify this.
These snow days are takeing a toll on my liver
momentary stint on a second floor library computer...guy next to me snorted blue adderall off his notebook through a cut straw, i cant tell if this guy is my hero or just plain crazy...
Randomize
