I can't remember if we talked about feelings. Fuck you Miller High Life.
I think drunk me is telling hungover me something... I just have to crack the code.
I hated hipsters before it was mainstream.
You try staying up all night fucking a guy with a curved dick and see how much you want to go out after that.
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He was like an artic tracker. Walked ten paces from the tree, then 15 paces from the mailbox, dug down in the snow, and pulled up the case of beer he hid from his parents out there. It tasted like ice cold success.
Best surprise in my car. A cookie, sliced kiwi and the rest of my margarita. Work is going to be awesome.
I don't know what's more sad. The fact that I'm genuinely impressed about being sober for a whole 3 days or the fact that I want to get wasted in celebration.
There is someone hissing in the hallway. Not even a typo. Not pissing. Hissing. Like a large cat. Or a komodo dragon.
somebody should make me the poster child for not drinking everclear..
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Those boxers don't belong to me anymore. They belong to the desert surrounding Phoenix.
That moment when you're in a room with 3 guys and know how big their dicks are. Then you are married to the one with the smallest dick.
So Saturday night after 10 drinks I guess he tried to have sex with me and in the middle of it I asked "can you tell I'm faking it!?" and then I sat up and threw up in my hand. That's a sex Win in my books
Also I just had a pointless meeting and the only thing I accomplished were my kegals
I just mixed tangerine juice with sauv blanc. on an unrelated note, my episide of intervention is slated to run in April.
No way man ... This is real life. Complete sentences and everything.
Randomize