conclusion of the day: americans need to get on tredmills, people need to learn how to flush toliets and learn how to pee in then instead of on them, and waiters shouldnt tell their life stories to customers.
Instead of having sex, we spent the entire night making pillow forts and have sword fights. I think I'm in love
Lady came into work yesterday. Full on stache and beard. I've never concentrated on making eye contact harder in my life.
I just found out my birth date is Pick Your Poison Day. Goodbye, conscience, forever. I was born to live like this.
Just when I think I'm the one with the problem, I get home for the holidays and the family shows me what alcoholism is really about
I ended up in a shower with 9 people and a bunch of unopened beer last night. I think I got peed on. Hands were everywhere. We sold the peed on beer to people knocking on the hotel room door.
Wow, now I'm sad I didn't go.
I walked from the hotel to the club with a pint of tequila in my boot. Poured some in a homeless woman's mouth when she asked for change. I've hit rock bottom.
Is it too early to start a donation jar for my 4th of july hospital bills?
So Doritos and vodka was obviously not as good an idea as I thought at the time.
I walk in and my mom has a Christian workout program playing. It's like, gospel music with an "electronic" beat to go with it. And then they try to save your soul at the end. I hate being home.
Side note: I just realized that I can make my hand warmers double as a heated push up bra.
His dog ate the vibrator. The WHOLE vibrator. We spend the morning after trying to make it vomit up the battery. Why does this always happen to me?
My mom purposely got me drunk so I can stay at her house bc "we don't spend enough time together." I blacked out anyway, so we didn't spend time together regardless.
He's a freak. Not like "freak in the bed" freak but like "eats glue in the weekends" freak.
if my 20s were a chapter in my autobiography, it would be called "the room is spinning and my hands smell like dick"
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