i was so high it looked like the chipmunks movements were coordinated to that lady gaga song
She was so bad on top that i found myself watching a TV that wasn't even turned on
you ever get that eerie feeling when you walk in a room, when you know youve barfed here before.
Ah, the precious few moments between when i wake up and when i realize why i'm sleeping on a treadmill.
At the pride parade. It's not even noon and I'm drunk as shit... for equality of course
you called me in the middle of the night, wandering the streets, in search of "the ultimate burrito"
I feel like this is the moment of high where you have to write these texts down to remember to text them and feel that somehow this is important to the continuity of the world.
like seriously. this whole place is the shit. like i can move clouds. no other way to explain it but i can fucking move clouds.
So question, would you consider it morally wrong to grind up Cialas and put it in ones cocktail? Then I get what I want and he doesn't have to be embarrassed and he can win the mental game with himself? I'm only thinking of him...
Then he texted me that I was the "good kind" of fat.
It was marvelous. I was drunkenly conversing with my professor in some of the best Spanish I've ever spoken.
Vodka Vensday. With a Russian accent... It counts.
This bar smells like your ball sack. In a weird way I miss you.
I just fell in love with a beard, the guy it's attached to isn't great but I think I'm going to take one for the team
Sex and compliments. The way to my heart
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