throwing condoms aimed at his crotch probably isn't the politest way to ask for sex
He was streaking. We were hammered. We had roman candles. It only made sense to shoot them at him.
there is laundry and salad ALL OVER my car, i need context
He said last night that he'd never had such a great conversation and such a great handjob at the same time.
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so do you, all the weight can't fall on me. I'll befriend a ball pit owner if you will befriend a drug dealer. teamwork.
My liver is crying. And I feel like I got fingered by Edward Scissorhands. While he was wearing brass knuckles
He makes me want to shower. It must be love.
IT'S SUMMA TIME
ITS SUMMA TIME NOT BE HIGH ALL THE TIME TIME
THEY'RE THE SAME THING
We're already drunk. 4 hours to go still. And there's a bear advisory. TOP WEEKEND.
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I am gathering blankets and bags of horse grain to pad my truck bed so I have a comfy place to crash when I get home, without the inconvenience of stairs. Or doors. Or walking. But with the refreshing scent of molasses.
Yuck. My throat feels like someone chucked a couple of Maltov cocktails down it and finished it off with a super soaker filled with Jameson.
Your feet probs hurt bc the cab driver kicked us out a mile from home after you wouldn't stop screaming "prohibition can suck my dick"
I just wanna get drunk in a castle. Is that so much to ask?
Oh goddamn. That a super downer Tuesday reality right there. Just hit me with the cold, hard, nasty facts.
the staff put glowsticks in the urinals of the porta-pottys last night and honestly drunk me has never been more grateful for anything in his life
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