I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
dude, there's a fucking musical in my head. it's fucking awesome being this high.
apparently my insurance doesn't cover road head. Bummer.
His dick was poking my bladder. That big...
i'm currently connecting with my tribal roots aka i just found my recorder from 3rd grade music class... be ready for the recording
Children cease to be precious when they crap their shorts in the pool I exercise at.
I literally walked into the toilet, looked at my reflection, said "alcohol" and went back to bed...
Also- should we send out holiday cards? That say, "Eat a dick, 2014"?
I told my therapist about the other night and he actually whistled and said "wow that is not good."
Enough talk of my burning loins. How is your day?
Smoking a bowl and ordering Dominos, you want in on either, both, or none?
Okay, yeah, judgmental guy at 7/11. I'm buying g wine at 10:20 in the morning. You wanna fight about it?
Its like people have to train for months before they try and drink with us and survive...
When I woke up I was spooning with a block of cheese. Like, cuddling. Me and the cheese we nestling...
When we were finished she immediately got up, cut a star out of a piece of paper, colored it gold, taped it to my chest and deemed me the Sheriff of Sex.
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