I'm a terrible person. There are two guys speaking sign language on the metro platform and at first I thought they were drunk and doing a silly dance.
we just made rock paper scissors into a drinking game
then the nurse gave me a bag with my personal belongings: phone, wallet. jacket, keys and a BTB burrito
after you threw up, you tried to prove you were sober by reading the ingredients off the shampoo bottles
apparently there was a flour fight and couch sex...
passed a homeless guy with a sign that read "420 vetran" we gave him a bowl of bud
this celing is unfamiliar to me... im just vaguely wondering where i am. but not quite concerned enough to do anything about it.
I was wasted and the time changed. I blame the male strippers.
First stoner thought of the day: Life would be so much better if there were more things that were biscuits and gravy flavored.
True freedom is running around a sex club in former power plant in Berlin wearing a boots, a jock
You know I think I am ok with him not moving in yet. He came over, fixed my closet, ate me out, and left. I'm now in sweats drinking coke and rum and watching new girl. This works for me.
Apparently it's illegal to hit pedestrians with coke cans... But the cop complimented my arm. That's a win in my book.
this night just went from meh to biblical thanks to drunk naked yahtzee
I figured it out! The supermoon explains how I managed to have sex with 3 dudes in 3 nights without leaving the apartment.
I've got to stop being so hungover that I puke in the fine establishments of this glorious town.
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