i'm in his bathroom *freshening up* and he not only has a hairdryer... but a straightener. get me out of here... NOW
so was this before or after i puked down the ice luge?
From the trajectory of the puke, I must have fallen off the top bunk while trying to vomit, due to the dented bucket, ruined carpet, and bruised dignity I now own.
The only requirement is that his name is Kevin... All other factors don't matter to drunk me. Drunk me likey Kevins.
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they paper machayed me.
i told you ... never pass out drinking with preschool teachers.
I need to find out this kids work schedule. I need mustache rides on my lunchbreaks.
He's basically me if I was an 8-yr-old boy. It's like looking into a pudgy terrifying mirror
We thought it was a good idea to send a picture to our HS science teacher where she's smoking a joint and I'm holding a monkey, and he invited us to lunch. NEW LEVEL UNLOCKED.
I can't. I'm not drunk enough for this information.
The bong is packed and it's taco Tuesday come over
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smoked four grams out of a bong with a mixture of pool water and white rum. I applaud you for leaving before losing too many brain cells.
I wrote a list of things I enjoy doing. So far it says "get high and go to museums."
I'm driving to his house to eat chicken and hopefully have an orgasm
Black magic does not go near my vagina, it's a rule
We both shit in the same closet in Santa Fe. Nothing is sacred anymore.
I now know he's been cheating for a while. I also know HER name, address, phone number, Facebook account, religion and zodiac sign. I feel like I'm earning my restraining order. Point is, never fuck over a librarian.
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