Nyc is like a mosaic of my failed dates.
Last night you were talking while puking saying, "ahh the shoes and the purse, I'm gonna have to wash those"
dude just did a line with screech. dude is fucking creepy
He grabbed every salt shaker in the apartment and we haven't seen him since. He really really doesn't want to shovel snow anymore.
rolled over to window for cup of snow instead of leaving bed for water. that's how hungover
So much to do, haven't done anything except hook up with sailors and work on my tan.
he wears New Balance sneakers on a regular basis, did you really expect the sex to be more than decent?
Also, I found your gauge.
I found it under my pillow like a gift from the Sex Fairy.
We may not see eye-to-eye on much, but I'm definitely willing to let you see eye-to-vagina again.
I found pix on her phone of me passed out and her sticking things up my ass. Its over.
I forgot to lock the bathroom door. He walked in, saw me on the toliet, nodded, and walked back out.
Sorry for yelling at you, I'm just really emotional about missing comicon.
I mostly blame me being such a miserable fuck on the fact that I was born on a Monday.
So i woke up on a park bench... Using my shoe as a pillow, cuddling a empty handle of vodka... Yet I'm still in my living room. Someone please tell me why all my vodkas gone? I'll deal with the park bench situation at a later time.
So bottomless mimosas = me waking up in a truck bed in a random neighborhood with no purse or phone or idea how I got there.
Randomize
