break up sex still means we will always be broken up.
Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
Just try to make good decisions...remember our convo we had about morals the other day?
Turn them off?
I can't, I'm busy. I've been walking around Tokyo on google maps for an hour.
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After we finished he asked if I knew if it was a boy or girl. Diet. Starts. Now.
The liquor store wont accept checks from us anymore.
Found you in the bushes with fireworks, a teacup and no shoes. Decided it was a bad time to wake you.
She's running around bumping into to people trying to keep a balloon she filled with vodka in the air. Please tell me she has a secret off switch you didn't tell me about.
I like to take my ritalin one pill at a time with each pill spaced out a couple minutes so I feel like I'm going super saiyan when they kick in.
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On our way there. Drinking my beer out of a coffee pot. Cuz it's my bday
I HAVEN'T FUCKED ANYONE IN FOREVER AND A HALF I DON'T DESERVE TO BE A TRASHY BLONDE
What do I do when my mom and I both awkwardly spot the Rocky Horror parody porn sitting on the coffee table? Leave it or try to move it?
In other news, I'm pretty sure my mom was encouraging me to have a threesome yesterday... I don't even want to start digging in that garden of horror and trauma.
It feels appropriate that the wallet of my high school and college years would die at the hands of a spilled bong. Which in and of itself is a solid metaphor for those years.
We ended the night eating peanutbutter with our hands and smoking cigarettes in the house at 4am. Fucking Everclear, man.
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