I had a fork in my beer hand and just stabbed my tongue.
honestly, i'm just crying in the kitchen naked and eating salsa
I should start printing out disclaimer handouts and passing them out to people saying, "I can not be held responsible for anything I say or do this evening."
I figured it out. If I have at least 4 shots of vodka before I start my day, EVERY day will be a good day.
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In this town being related to a brewing family or the owner of a sports team is like being royalty. It's like hooking up with the queen's nephew or something.
As I'm trying to leave her house she shushes me and puts my hand on her boob, then goes back to sleep. In like 30seconds. What the fuck.
I think my greatest accomplishment today was probably using a bottle opener to get the cap off my fourth drink while holding the cat WITHOUT dropping him.
Oh god, what has my life become?
I actually want to work out for some reason... I think it's my brains way of telling me it doesn't like living in a fat body.
A nap. You broke your hand napping in Vegas.
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I need to shower three times. First to be clean, second to wash off all sins, and third will classify as baptism.
I cried at the bar for 30 minutes because I got my arm stuck in my sweater. I got free drinks for the rest of the night after the bartender helped me.
Forever getting my life back together in gas station bathrooms.
Life update: This fucking MacBook repair guy called me over last night for a booty call and he didn’t have a condom OR a bed
Also fucking you night and morning and then serving your parents breakfast is a bit awkward. And funny. To me.
He's the first boyfriend I wouldn't cheat on. This is a really big deal for me
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