i hope S**** or M***** or someone took note of the fact that i was drinking popov like water and could no longer form sentences. i mean, dont get me wrong i had been thinking about boning R*** long before my sobriety left the picture but the number of reasons not to, outweighed the temptation and without sir robert burnett as R***'s wingman, it would have never happened
I do no wrong. I am always right. Right? I forget why I am sending this. It seemed relevant.
Alcoholism comes in two forms... Us.
Its 6am and I'm sitting on the couch watching Clifford. Crying into my risotto because emily elizabeth helped the girl in the wheelchair get over her stagefright so she can win a trophy. Never drinking alone again.
heres the thing, we have 120 cans of beer left in the fridge. until thats finished we cant fit food in the fridge
she looks like one of those semi-pretty girls that turns into a 9 while she's riding your cock like she's trying to catch a train on horseback.
I also like to call Halloween "Mystery Fuck Day"
And literally 4loko margaritas are callin my name. They're like "Hey girl come on over here I'll make you forget about grades and boys and it'll be a good idea to send everyone 55 snapchats of your cleavage" ok
I just made a flawless coverstory for why I dont have my car and why I left the party on foot. #adultererskills
Sitting in my car feasting on the spoils of Taco Bell as Donna Lewis croons "I love you, always forever." A more perfect moment will never exist.
Dude. My tinder just blew up in Seattle. I'm moving here. I don't give a fuck
Opened my notebook to coke all over the pages. So, if that's any indication on how this weekend went.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
Nothing says happy Monday quite like coffee and oral sex.
You’ll (maybe) appreciate that I picked at my ingrown hair again. Quarantine updates are getting BLEAK.
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