windsor, ontario is like a poor man's amsterdam
no, it is just poor
I'm so hungover And my mouth is so dry it feels like my tongue is wearing a sweater
well after this past weeked you can expect to see me on maury playing a little game called "who's the father"
Europe's "the final countdown" was playing. It was pretty much amnesty for anything that might happen the rest of the night. It's a rule.
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The little girl I babysit saw pink plastic shot glasses in my car and asked what they were for and I told her they were princess teacups.
I am the kind of drunk to where i can still drive a golf cart
Officially drug you out of White Castle last night by the hood on your sweatshirt after you cussed out the attendant and stole the satisfaction guaranteed sign because they were closed!
And then we felt it necessary to continue drinking for another 4 hours, yikes
is there any kind of "im boning my neighbor and he happens to be a manager at walmart" discount that our new relationship entitles me to??
We need to get fucked up again and play games like "save the tequila but dodge the knife"
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I'm gonna be the best dressed mother fucker to ever get kicked out of that damn bar.
Well I had to use a seat cushion at Soul Cycle today so, yeah, I'd say the sex was good
I've got to stop being so hungover that I puke in the fine establishments of this glorious town.
Maid of honor screwed up the joke so I just got to explain what a strap on is and why a married lady might want one to Grandma and my brother's wedding shower.
You have to commit to sexting. You can't just quit right after I send you pictures of my asshole.
Seriously, come on.
I feel like there's a picture of my ass on the internet right now.
I hate you.
New life goal: Sex in a parking lot surrounded by a circle of fire.
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