Memo to the bitch sitting across from me at Swamp: no one thinks you're classy with your Louis Vuitton and your Burberry scarf when you're dragging on that cig like it was the last cock on earth and you needed cum for sustenance.
her eyes looked like someone had poured fruit punch in them. needless to say we had a good time.
Why am I drunk on a roof painting at 11 in the morning
so would me posting the photos of the cock and coin jar incident be completely out of the question?
Also I smoked away my sore throat last night. It's a 420 miracle.
just remembered spooning on the cardboard and confessing to each other we had the spins.
Really? Uh ohh sounds like a double date with extra stripper funnnn
Who knew that "When in doubt, pelvic thrust" would end up being the best motto ever? In other news, I think I may have joined roller derby.
Wait. You NEVER used a Dizzy Doodler pen as a vibrator?!?
He told me he was married and then fingered me on the kitchen counter. It was awkward to explaining the broken toaster to my roommates this morning...
Shit on my own feet while puking from my hangover. Is this what 33 is supposed to be like?
I'm the catering manager, it's not my job to stop 2 teenagers from fucking in the bathroom. I couldn't bring myself to stop that sort of young romance anyway, that's what I pay you people for
I just need a fucking pair of pants. Is that too much to ask for?
I mean metaphorically. Literally zombies have yet to invade. Let's be rational here.
You know it was a good dinner party when one of the guests broke their finger and no one can remember how it happened.
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