It's like the Sean Connery of vaginas. You don't mess with it.
just fought my dog for the chicken pie I dropped on the floor.
She was literally passed out in a cubicle with a flask in her hand. I LOVE finals week!
not sure if I should be concerned that my brother just stormed into my room and looked at me with a serious face and said, "I'm a peacock, you have to let me fly." oh, vicodin...
He played the same pre-sex songs as his brother...
most of the afternoon was spent sneaking around my house and alternating which bathrrom to throw up in.
Shit. I'm suppose to call the bank but I'm too high to talk numbers.
Security deposit gone.
burned down garage with fireworks.
It was only in the sobering silence of the wilderness on the mountain, after I was too tired to talk anymore and I also didn't want to tell Julian that we were lost, that I realized how super tripped out I had been the entire time...
Does it still count as a valentine if it's drunk phone sex at 3 in the morning
Yeah but sometimes your vagina needs to be fed and when we are drunk we tend to eat junk food
So i walked around campus drunk and alone last night eating pizza and a lunchable from 7-11. Sat by the flag pole and drank an entire liter of water, took off my shoes to prance around in the fountain, then stepped in dog shit on the way home...barefoot.
I told my manager I was trying to conserve my energy for date night/Sexual Olympics later. That's legit for another break, right?
I let him use my phone and now I keep getting gay cruise ads, I guess he forgot to mention something.
I just landed at Logan and some guy threw up in the baggage carousel. Boston never really changes
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