shit pants at work. discarded underwear.
just showed this text to the guy at west elm. luckily we did not stool ourselves in the midst of the ensuing hilarity. so you're commando now?
yep! most awkward part is that i was a few feet away from a client, talking and looking him in the eye. i've never stooled while looking someone directly in the eye.
All I remember is yelling at him to admit he liked Bon Jovi, then accusing him of giving love a bad name.
HE had a tribal tattoo tramp stamp, jasmine.
if I'm ever single again, I swear to god I'm going to have 87 venerial diseases
so i havent checked yet but im almost positive that my left ass cheek is bruised. any idea what happened last night.
what the fuck man? i was JUST texting you the same thing. FUCK
Mother nature decided I wasn't going to be a whore today. Fuck her.
Your never gonna wash that desperation outta that sweatshirt you know.
In that case, I'll try 2 find a date. But my options are AA friends or fuck buddies.
It's really sad that I'm trying to calculate in my head the type of place to have dinner that's worth anal
The best part about this city is obvious. Someone saw me crouching by a bar pissing in my leftover Panera bread bowl and they just winked.
i wonder if cab drivers are trained in the art of delivering girls back to their dorms on Saturday mornings. because mine was so nice that he dropped me off at the back of my building so no one would see me.
she has that "i will punish you like your mom did" vibe, i think guys like that.
I learned a valuable lesson about combining day drinking with malt liquor: you may think you have super powers, but that's just the Steel Reserve talking.
its hard to say precisely how it happened, but the next thing i knew i was on top of a mountain
Was not aware that standing loudly up off the couch and loudly, drunkenly slurring "I'M EIGHTEEN NOW BITCHES" counted as a primitive mating call.
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