things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
at which point I apparently ran in and shouted "I made the sex with that one!"
yeah...i noticed he pets people when he's drunk. It's odd.
He kept insisting that I was going to have an orgasm but it just felt like he was rubbing sand paper on my vagina
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He said hes taking shrooms and watching jurassic park so we're making a t-rex costume
we need ur ladder
Had no idea what his name was when I woke up. Went through his desk, found his tax records. Ben. And loaded.
I'm going to make out with someone. I'm on a mission. I don't even care if I'm wearing beer goggles. As long as he's not shorter than me, gay, or a woman.
Sadly he is straight as an arrow that is designed by a robot computer from the future with lasers.
This saddens me. Mostly because I want to see the schematics on that robot.
Either I think of sex like a man, or all the men in Vegas are women.
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Sex aside I am really scared about Syria...
My loniness meter has reached its peak. I just played shadow puppets using my Big Mac on the wall with my cats
Currently doing the walk of shame out of some random girls house with my boyfriend. Talk about relationship goals.
You know why I love being a regular at this bar? It's because at a certain point last call is only a suggestion.
breakfast this morning: omelette, Valium and baileys hot chocolate
Now that sounds like the breakfast of champions
youll appreciate my drinking habit one day...
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