apparently my drunken alterego is a lazyeyed bisexual.
So right when I was pulling her underwear off with my teeth, she told me, "Stick your penis in my 'nanners." Needless to say, there was no penis-'nanner interaction.
I don't have the money to get a cast so we made one from stuff at the craft store.
He locked about 20 beers in a suitcase and put it in the fridge. For a complete idiot, he's a goddamn genius.
There isn't a single transaction on my online bank account that doesn't involve drugs or alcohol since November 12
and I was crying with the towel lady in the bathroom of the bar about the tragedy in Haiti. Then we hugged before I left and I gave her 10 dollars.
That's the second time in a week someone has called me to talk drunk you into getting up off the floor. This needs to stop.
She asked me to go inside, make myself a drink and slip into something a little more naked.
I was going to make out with him...then he licked syrup off the kitchen floor.
It is officially settled in my mind that fuck the hot grad student is THE goal this year
With 4 extra seconds dedicated to the dong.
These kind of text worry me.
I need to reevaluate. My boss gave me drug money. I overslept on my couch. And I had my student teacher go to McDonald's and get an egg mcmuffin for me.
A special kind of bond is formed between two people when they act as a pee shield for one another for drunken pisses in an alleyway
This is not the first time I've recognized my body is subconsciously trying to make pizza.
I think putting on real pants was half my issue with today
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