she cant drink. allergic to alcohol.
ewwww. she might as well have a dick.
I drunkenly recorded an episode of Family Matters last night. I took a shot everytime Carl Winslow had a mustache.
Woke up. Made a pizza. Burnt it. Going back to bed cuz today sucks
Just saw some guy walking down the street rapping about various types of pasta.
It took 5 minutes to find my bra.. in his car.
I think I'm drunk. That wine was old. I found it behind the water heater next to the mouse poison.
I can't feel my brain.
Pre-drinking/conditioning my liver for this impending hurricane party associated with cat. 2 hurricane Irene. Be ready to roll in a weather channel minute.
The whole time we were fucking I kept thinking, "My dad would love this cologne. I'll have to ask him where he got it." the highlight of the night is that I figured out my dad's birthday gift.
Well, after emptying the contents of my stomach into a fucking rose bush, the only things moving through my digestive system are pills, coffee, and my own lip gloss. If that gives you any idea what kind of a day I'm having.
The fact that me being able to walk down stairs is an accomplishment in my books pretty much explains how I am
They got mad when I cut the pizza with an x-acto knife. Oh well, more for me then.
I guess I was running around slapping people in the face with a slice of turkey telling them that the only way to beat alcohol addiction is to go cold turkey.
Jus had a dream that I borrowed bob dylans car to save us from a pack of raptors. Pretty stoked about it.
She was calling him Bob Saget and asking him to buy her shots....how do you think the night went?
Get your dick back in here. On Saturdays, you're not allowed to leave my bed unless it's to make me bacon or coffee.
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