i'm stoned. there's a jazz trio playing outside across the street...scared that mike myers will appear & start yelling 'woman...WHOA MAN. WHOOOA MAN.' i'm snapping my fingers.
FUCK TREES I CLIMB BUOYS MOTHERFUCKER
STOP listening to that song
you tried to tell me that ice cream had no calories because they were "frozen"
Brutally Honest is my real middle name, Princess just sounds better.
No, listening to the fray and drinking a bottle of jack daniels does not count as counseling
Before we fucked we both mutually agreed not to tweet about it.
Living room floor. I asked him to give me a back rub. He did. And smoothly transitioned that to foreplay, then basically threw me on the floor. My vagina hurts. He deserves another Christmas present.
I confess. I just downed the bottle of saki. And I'm singing phantom of the opera to the dogs. Be glad you're not here for the high notes.
Hahah. They reconnected again?
Like with his penis I guess
Don't wake me up to tell me to cook for you because you don't like taco meat.
Desperation looks like a $1 bottle of vodka and warm Cuban tap water.
In hindsight, I probably should not have let the waiter give me a chiropractic adjustment on my neck last night.
I found one of those wine glass confetti bits in my ass crack.
it's a rainbow of FUCK YOU
Me and my dad hot boxed a hotel bathroom... That's what I call father son bonding
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