I think I'm going to go home and read The Bible.
the party we crashed was not a party. the party we crashed was jens grandads funeral.
but instead of smelling like hand cream and homemade cookies, she smells like a yeast infection.
Say what you want, but those Fraggle Rock DVDs have gotten me laid twice.
Im wearing all my glow sticks to bed so i know where my arms are at all times.
So he ended up throwing a watermelon that he stole from the cafeteria saying "if i cant have it no one can" of the 5th floor.
When you get up and look at yourself in the mirror, don't be alarmed. The doctor assured us last night that it looked way worse than it actually was and there won't be a scar when the stitches come out
I have migrated to the couch. Minimal movement is still happening, but I should be mobile enough to go to the liquor store by eight.......so that good.
when I woke up, he was drunk and singing "soft kitty" and petting my face
BUT I think maybe Thursday in celebration of America we should probably tan and see how fast we can finish everything in the liquor cabinet.
It's national "dress up your pet day" come over. Drugs and dressed up cats..it's the shit dreams are made of.
I feel like one thing if I have going for me is that my bed looks like a nice place to have sex
I blame everything on you. My broken heart, my fucked up liver and my twisted mind.
tell raye i said hi and sorry for bleeding on the limes
He just compared fucking my vagina to a snow flake falling on his forehead: gentle.... I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not.
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