Sex on a kitchen table is not as amazing as they make is seem in the movies.
I didn't cheat on him. Cheating means finding out. I made sure he was at work first. After the guy left I got shitfaced just so nothing seemed out of the ordinary when he came home.
I was so high last night. I wrote a poem about my salt shaker
note to self, drunkenly bedazzeling the silverware was a stupid fucking idea
Someone better explain the burnt stove marks on my bed.
asked the girl next to us on line to take a picture of us and she shared her bacardi. i love white people.
Fun holiday story for you: Alex and I went out drinking. She left. I needed a ride home. Met this dude and told him to drive my car back. Once at my house, I made him take out my dog and then apologized for not wanting to make out with him. I said, let me go see if my roommate is interested and then I slept in Alex's bed all night.
20 bucks says he was an actual leprechaun
She's passed out with a slice of pizza between her boobs should I just eat it and leave
I smoked my last bong as the sun rose. It was magical.
I wrote a list of things I enjoy doing. So far it says "get high and go to museums."
Rock bottom: having sex rejected while your boyfriend talks in his sleep as you stuff your face with Girl Scout cookies
I might need to come puke in your toliet on the way home
Sorry for prompting a philosophical penis discussion at 10:45 on a Friday night.
Okay, but that still doesn't explain all the glitter in my puke.
Apparent my drunk ass was so dedicated to taking a piss, when I walked across the dance floor to get to the bathroom a 9/10 broad tried to dance with me and I just pushed her aside, like hard enough to send her a few feet from where she was standing, pointed at her and said "Not now chief, gotta rock a mean one."
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