trying to fathom saturday night and the fact that Rainn Wilson now hates me. my brain hurts.
my head feels like I tried to put alcohol out of business last night
Just woke up. First thing I see: Little brother eating last night's jello shots thinking they're reg jello.
I'm on my fifth double. This night is getting better whether it likes it or not.
"Whiskey Cheerios" was a terribly great idea.
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
I don't know which part of you thought this was funny but it's fucked up to wake up in that much fluff and now we don't have a couch. Fuck you.
I love that your nipples always taste like clean laundry.
I think these people may actually be nudists. You know it's bad when I feel uncomfortable.
Oooo. Can we pretend to be Amanda Bynes?
She bought wigs like Disney princesses. I want to be her.
My life is a clusterfuck of men and disorderly priorities right meow.
I'm supposed to nail the old lady at 1:30 so I'll see you at 1:35ish.
I don't think I've ever met a guy with a bush bad enough that I would choose a cactus over it.
You have got to be the only man who has passed out while getting a lap dance.
Do you lock your house? Serious question, I need to know if I can add it to my list of emergency poop stops
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