just when i thought things couldnt get worse, the batteries died in my vibrator.
I called the bar to ask if they found my Id and credit card and they remembered me as 'the girl who signed her receipt in blood'
I woke up naked in my own vomit. Not even in my bed. No one is happy.
I think a used vibrator from amazon.com is a great valentines day gift foe my ex.
I need to find my pants, a way out of here, and a cheeseburger.
He slow fucked me. Doggy style. On a porch. You never slow fuck doggy style. Its a law. A LAW.
Did you blow the guy you weren't supposed to hook up with again in the bathroom of pita pit? Cause that happened last night...
The blackout version of me left a ransom note to the sober self. Somebody needs to control that guy
It was about the point the universe collapsed in on itself and I was a singularity of insanity that I realized I was tripping balls.
I'm texting an actual stripper. A male stripper. I dont wanna talk about it yet
So the day after the 4th I'm sitting here drinking Molson and watching NHL free agent frenzy. From patriotic American to drunken Canadian in 24 hours flat. Booyah.
They should incorporate dolphins into professional surfing
...and now I welcome the sweet embrace of death.
Everyone is a disappointment when you lose your virginity to nine inches
I have a hunchback of notre dame journal from when I was 6 wherein sits a diary entry that reads "saw liar liar today. Carrey's best yet" and that's all.
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