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things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
Now that I've come to graduate college. I realized the only discernible skill I learned was how to roll a joint properly. go me.
Well thats $24,000 well spent.
my house keeper must think I'm a prostitute.
i love how people use prayer to talk shit about eachother in a 'holy' manner.
you handled that situation with as much grace as someone puking involuntarily could
I was so high that i was talking shit about a girl I was with via text, and I handed the phone to her so she could type the shit I was trying to say.
Never again will we have slut saturday. Never.
I just remember thinking, if she falls asleep, I'm totally eating that spilled chex mix right off of her.
He came inside me, looked me in the eye and said, "Happy Mother's Day"
Just sponge bathed with a swissper. Thrush inevitable. Shaking.
He's covered in dirt and enchiladas. We're going drinking now.
I dont think that yelling at the medic "Christmas is gone, fuck off santa" was the best idea when you couldnt feel your legs.
Currently getting "blaow" buzzed into my pubes. How's your thursday?
I distinctly remember holding up a piece of ham pizza and screaming: "WHO THE FUCK EATS HAM PIZZA" in the face of a bunch of scared 13 year old girls faces, while my own sister laughed in mine.
He simply fell in the fire, rolled out and continued to finish his bottle of vodka. Everyone else instantly sobered up just watching it.
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