my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
i almost got kicked out of the rave because i was trying to get in on some couple's makeout sessions
Was just explained ingredients in a four loko. Puzzles of the universe starting to piece together.
He ran five blocks just to watch me and my best friend make out. I think he's a keeper.
I just want to point out that nothing makes my hickie/hangover more obvious than sleeping in a scarf and sunglasses. nothing.
Also I'm very proud of th fact that I walked my dog before bed. Drunk dog walking should be an Olympic sport; it takes SKILLS.
All that fucking tequilla made my head feel like it's inside of a body builder's asshole. He's doing squats.
diet's not working. come over. i need someone to fuck the hungry out of me.
We fucked to the rythmn of the thunder, it was magical
Cops on bikes. I think I can outrun them.
I think I just wanna go buy some jack at the liquor store, come home, take my pants off, and not give a shit about stuff
There comes a point, as I lay on the floor of the work disabled toilets contemplating catching 10 minutes sleep between chunders, that I wonder if its really worth it
I actually feel a twinge of sadness recycling all of our handles... I feel like I'm throwing out some great memories or lack of them because we don't remember
I bought 10 disposable adhesive bras and duct tape. If Home Depot can't help my breasts defy gravity, nothing will...
LMAO
Nah leave him alone, he is at the strip club with his mom.
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