i hope S**** or M***** or someone took note of the fact that i was drinking popov like water and could no longer form sentences. i mean, dont get me wrong i had been thinking about boning R*** long before my sobriety left the picture but the number of reasons not to, outweighed the temptation and without sir robert burnett as R***'s wingman, it would have never happened
Last night was so much fun. i kept trying to lick everyone
he yelled "RELEASE THE KRAKEN" then hit me with his dick
I always have to poop after I paint my nails. It never fails.
so it turns out, not only do the doormen judge the girls I bring home, but they rate them.
I stayed up for hours making sure you didnt pass out in a mountain of your own puke. But when I heard you yell AWWWW FUUCCKK, somehow I knew everything would be ok
I'm lonelier than Tom Hanks in Cast Away, right meow. Ready to make this bong my Wilson.
Until then we have the self affirmation from retweets and nights alone with pizza..
I'm sure me singing - rather loudly - "fuck me in the back seat" last night didn't help either.
There is nothing worse then the feeling after you've held in farts all night..
What's his name?
If my birthday doesn't end with my panties hanging from a ceiling fan, I'm holding you responsible.
And besides a nice relationship, I just really want to get laid damnit
If it involves notarization or the Misfits, I am up to date. Anything else, I know fuck-all.
I woke up this morning next to my computer with Google search results for "how to put out a fire."
I'm very scared to turn around.
Neighbor is sitting on his porch looking like he made some terrible life decisions and I just want to be like "I drank half of a handle of peach vodka in a shed last night. I understand" but I think they're swingers so his night probs sucked more.
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