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.
walking home from your place the other day I saw a man with a ponytail sitting on some church steps petting a plant
he should get drunk with us
I guess she didn't feel like it. There was hair all over it and everything
I just saw someone marching around outside wearing only a loincloth, dragging a fuckton of sheet metal. Spring has Sprung.
she told me I give head better than a lesbian. I know it's a great compliment but it kind of threw me off.
Just found a quarter that has been stuck to my boob since at least last night.
the moment we started interpretive dancing last night wouldve been a good time to stop drinking.
Oh, and thanks to you. I'm now stuck in the living room, held hostage, listening to my roommate's "How I discovered I was bi" story. FUCK YOU.
He asked me to coffee and I had no choice but to be honest. So naturally I told him that sobriety and monogomy are not two of my strong suits.
I'm handcuffed to your bathroom sink. Save me.
No I just rolled on the floor giggling. I think that's the equivalent to a post sex victory dance.
Just resonded to a booty call with "how much effort is required on my part?" I think I've finally reached the point of smoking too much pot
I wanted lighthearted conversation about ordering bulk condoms and anal lube but he's depressed and talking about god hating him, ugh
You would be proud of me, I did not take a dab at work today.
She called a 10 year old handsome and we gave her a look that was equal parts confused and “what the hell is wrong with you”
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