It's noon and i am somehow drinking by myself in a jazz tent in broad daylight.
He said my breasts were God's way of making up to him for all the shit he's had to endure in his life.
I've decided to tape numbers to the bottom of my heels corresponding to the number of drinks I can safely consume in them.
We call it lazy sex. We just lay next to each other and help each other masturbate. that way we can both be on bottom.
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Managed to discreetly puke out of a moving streetcar window, in front of no less than a dozen people. Nobody saw/said anything. I feel like a legit local now.
if by "adventure" you actually mean "getting ridiculously high and shaving our legs," then yes.
Top hats and gin. This is why I love day drinking.
So that's all you want from me. Easy ass.
And an everlasting friendship
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
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I think my ball sweat smells like waffle house. might be time to change up drunken eating habits
I think it was a low point but honestly at this point I've had so many that my life is like a valley
Are we gonna talk about that cunnilingus snap
he's spending the night tonight. if i can walk straight tomorrow i'll be pissed.
As a member of the kink community, I feel grossly misrepresented
Hangover and judgement, the breakfast of champions.
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