P.S. I can't hear my feet
I swear to god he was trying to crawl under my door last night muttering "I'm Alex Mac! I'm Alex Mac!"
When I got to his place, he served wine and cheese and made me sit on the balcony while he read his poetry to me. He cockblocked himself.
i spelled "betch" that way on purpose, don't question my abilities as a drunk texter
I've never seen so many strippers at a funeral...
They nicknamed me the gargoyle. Sex with me is getting gargoyled. The last one I fucked yelled "gargoyle me" for dirty talk. I think fucking me is part of their pledging initiation. Somewhat OK with this.
His best friend walked in while we were banging, turned on the light, yelled BURN, grabbed his computer to play the Thunderstruck drinking game, turned off the light and left.
I'm so hungover that if we go to panera, I'll probably get a bread bowl to throw up in.
Things i learned at work today: do not put mayonaise on a tattoo, it will get infected.
I peed in a 7/11 last night. Like literally pretended I pretended I was shopping, looked around, and peed on boxes in the corner. No more tequila
The cleaning lady even cleaned my bong. I'm scared to open my sex toy drawer and see if and how she organized it
Had to sacrifice my vibrator batteries to the thermostat gods. I had a dirty dream and also almost a heat stroke.
sex on acid sucks though, i want to connect with the universe not your dick.
I'm not saying i'm drunk
But i'm drunk.
I'm just glad you didn't end up in Staten Island
I woke up naked holding a taco. My ass couldn't even make it to my bed let alone Staten Island
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