plans for tonight: dress up like pirates, drink a bottle of mad dog and watch the sorostitues across the street get naked. and yes, the mad dog part is already in play. hurry the fuck up. i look like a loser doing this alone.
new low: my hungover self just mistook bacon grease for mashed potatoes. worst. mistake. ever.
stumble upon led me to how to make wine in prison, followed by wedding dresses. it knows my life too well
Let's have a moment of silence for the guinea pig that drunk chick threw out our window.
the only consolation to the fact that i puked in public today was that i did it down a storm drain... so at least i am a responsible public puker
I've got to stop giving the gift of vagina for every occasion. I'm exhausted.
You stumbled in at 10am, half-clothed and still drunk from last night and yelled "well, its not called a walk of pride!", then passed out on the couch.
I think a van full of parolees just blew me kisses. Thoughts?
And after that you guys started calling arbor mist "breakfast juice"
I also have to vacuum the broken noodles out of my suitcase...
You're like Jane Goodall in a forest of gay men. Someday your autobiography will be called "Bottoms in the Mist".
I just realized I haven't had a date or a potential possibility of a date in about a year. Then I realized I wanted to actually go on a date. But I'm sitting here getting high instead of being at a party. Life.
It's no longer hooking up, we have definitely graduated to Sport Fucking....
And now to play every stoner's favorite game: Where the Fuck Did We Park the Car?! Disneyland Edition!
No I got a fucking mosquito bite on my vagina. Summer is off to a bumpy start.
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