I hate when my naked walk-arounds are interrupted by someone knocking on the door
And then I have a slight inkling that I went up to the bar and tried to order the bartender.
She is the perfect woman. She cooks, gives good head and doesn't care that I have a small penis.
The goblet must only be used for good. And vodka. And anything t-pain would be proud of.
Can we end it on a good note at least? Can we fuck and then never talk again?
Also got home. Still stoned. Mom was up. We made a pizza and were writing a children's book. Sleep good.
Sunday is a myth, I refuse to believe that I waste an entire day unable to function after a night of drinking.
She roared AMY HORNEY and hulk hoganed her shirt off. Fuckin marriage time bro
You've never even broken a bone. You singlehandedly disprove natural selection
Isn't it my whole life blown into this perfect spoon shaped piece of melted and artificially colored sand?
Wow.
He's doing his thing where I don't know if he's alive until three in the afternoon so idk
Oh and an honorable mention for your father's porn collection. Things I'll never forget.
The bump on my forehead, i think, was from falling asleep at front door, on my knees, slumped over. But we played good music so what?
Never let your siblings swipe right.
Woke up to I'm AWESOME written in purple crayon all over my walls. I love drunk me
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