oh good, I think they're gone
the painters?
my herpes
every time i drive by the road she lives on, i scream in the car "i'm sorry i'm sleeping with your boyfriend!" makes me feel less whore-y.
It's noon and i am somehow drinking by myself in a jazz tent in broad daylight.
At some point I made a semi-conscious decision that i was okay with sleeping in my own vomit.
had to go back to that apartment this morning to get my other boot. it was tacked to the wall
we walked around the neighborhood with caution tape tied around our foreheads, making indian noises. I might have disturbed a crime scene to make a native american headdress.
you know that feeling on acid where you think the world stops just to fuck with you? That's what it felt like.
Dude. Where are you? I'm making waffles in the waffle iron. It's beautiful.
He's 30 years old and woke me up for a hand job. Last time I go home with someone I met through Tinder.
I can't even be mad at customs in houstons airport anymore for missing my flight and having to stay overnight. Within an hour of meeting we did it at her place. Her last word being "glad I could show you real southern hospitality". I'm definitely coming back here someday
I'm not real sure what dinosaurs sound like, but dude, she made dinosaur noises.
If you're wondering about the mess, we had sex in the kitchen. There was noodles involved.
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.
Your cat ate my taco.
. . . I don't have a cat?
It was laying in your bed. Now it's hunting for more tacos.
shit... I double booked my fuck buddies
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