Nothing too bad. Lost a stuffed horse on a stick and tore my clothes off. Again.
if all i could do was poop and smoke weed, i'd be eternally happy
amen to that sister
I fucking love fucking science majors-- she told me that she wanted to know if her gag reflex got better or worse with alcohol, and that her initial evidence had been inconclusive. So, next few weeks, yeah, gettin blown periodically. All I have to do is keep a log.
Some dude just came up to me and stroked my beard, smiled and left. Shave?
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
There was a note in my hello kitty underwear telling me "don't go over 9000"
I'm so pissed my boobs hit the emergency stop button during my workout
I definitely did a line of something I don't know with a Pagan biker. I make good decisions.
At one point he was so drunk he was carrying around a bottle of patron drinking out of it and falling everywhere and every time he spilled it he would scream "THERE GOES TWENTY DOLLARS."
My life is a joke. Told everyone last night that they could call me Mrs. McCormick because I'm gonna end up alone with a handle of peach vodka anyways.
What wine did you feed Jack? Might not want to waste the good stuff on kitties. Kitties only get box wine.
Right now he's sitting in the chair pointing to me to go away. He's trying to have quiet time with his penis.
This is even better than the wine from my laundry basket
How's the party?
I'm watching two people get flogged. Sothere's that.
i'm bringing homemade birthday cake and homegrown weed. how awesome is this text?
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