It's pouring out. I am cold, wet, and miserable.... Kind of reminds me of our sleepover last night.
If I say "It's good enough" and I'm not talking about a sandwhich, that's your queue to stop me, you're supposed to be my friend.
update: last drink of the night and im naked in my porch hammock. life is good.
Im blasting "Fat Bottom Girls" as loud as humanely possible in attempts that old ladies doing water aerobics will take the hint and get the fuck out of the pool.
She broke both of her ankles trying to jump off the balcony. it's like every time she drinks she makes even more impressively bad decisions than the last time
The Deck is crawling with Cougars. Sound the irresponsibility alarm and come drink with me on a Tuesday night.
Fucken Tweens. They smelled like cotton candy and hand jobs my nostrils were offended.
There is a really great story behind the missing Coco Puffs and vodka mystery
Just ran into a client at a sex shop. The meeting tomorrow is going to be really awkward as we both try not to picture each other using vibrators or role play costumes.
I'm so hungover that I just wrote up my will because I'm afraid I'm gonna die. I'm leaving you my bong.
Note to self: don't try to shave your legs when sex-sore. You CANT reach, stop trying.
Visions of polite missionary are dancing in my head right now kinda and it alarms me
ive decided that just saying "yes" when people assume I am something other than Caucasian will highly benefit my love life. last night I was native.
so idk what that means but now because of me he has a police file as breaking into my apartment and sleeping in my hallway under the carpet
I Never thought my late 30s would end up with me getting eaten out on a desk in the managers office of a lululemon, but I guess being a franchise owner has its perks!
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