Even my Mr Clean Magic Eraser can't make last night disappear.
He tried to slow-dance with me in bed. IN BED.
Why is there not a 'day after acid' genre. Or even a pandora station or something.
Absolutely. I could drink and smoke that memory away in a matter of years at my current rate.
I like to get drunk just like anyone else but not to the point of sticking a rubber tube up my asshole
I literally just smashed open my grade school piggy bank for beer money. Goodbye childhood. Hellllllo coin night.
I don't know. What do people who don't get stoned do?
Got home. All the lights were on. All the doors were unlocked. My room was covered in beads, there's puke in the sink and of course our toilet is still broke. I'd say it was a decent Mardi Gras
The guy I screamed at across the bar for booing the Bruins ended up buying me shots I had to explain to him there's not a chance in hell I would ever fuck a Canadian! #Bostonstrong
He wrote me a Haiku titled, "Let me touch your butt".
I'm still not sure how to feel about the fact that we had a threesome with a guy the same age as my dad
I danced shirtless on a platform with a fucking stripper who went to MIT
The stripper started talking about murdering people....that lapdance turned dark.....
Granted every 20 shifts of working there you seem to be on par to receive some sort of racy satisfying sexual encounter which money can’t buy
Everytime after he came, he'd laugh uncontrolably for ten mintutes. He was sober..
Randomize
