theres no point in washing my sheets anymore. its always going to be a fine layer of booze and semen.
im shaking like a drug addict and i almost just shat my pants when i sneezed...no more patron for me
your tears are not going to buy me drinks...
Today in psych we learned that you are a whore.
Me specifically?
Yep.
Ask politely.
Fine. Can i please come over, hang out with you, sit around a campfire, smoke tree, listen to sublime, and fuck the shit out of you?
Thats good enough.
Because the last time i saw or spoke to him he came all over me in a hammock.
Somehow me showing up to/breaking into her house only to find I was a week early for the party became a night of weed cookies and sex.
I don't like him near enough to give up day drinking AND my prostitute costume
So much rum. So many feels.
I'm pretty sure I just need an IV drip of Plan B at this point...
It's an open bar. I'm gonna be gone when you get here.
Text me the address now before you're too drunk to text English.
I don't want to be Eskimo brothers with your dad
UPS just delivered me 30lbs of dried cherries... I shouldn't be allowed online when I take painkillers.
Vegas never ceases to amaze me. Hung out with a stripper from ATL all night and got nuthin, but the next night meet a bride-to-be who gives me a bj in the elevator.
This is the weekend we were supposed to be in Vegas making bad decisions hoping no one got VD, not stuck at home for the 900th day in a row
Randomize
