i'm stoned. there's a jazz trio playing outside across the street...scared that mike myers will appear & start yelling 'woman...WHOA MAN. WHOOOA MAN.' i'm snapping my fingers.
it is 7:54 and i am surrounded by drunk old people. drunk enough that my grandmother and her friend just compared boobs. as in, shirts off, bras coming down. save me.
I had to call maintenance to come unclog the toilet.
Something to remember me by.
bad decision saturdays are such a good decision
this whole plan B standoff thing with her is really starting to make me nervous
ROOF CAVED IN, WE'RE GUNNA MAKE A WATERSLIDE
...Saturday night. Get your dick ready. We are going to go nuts. I want to have sex fucking everywhere.
These welts and bruises from letting gay boys whip my thighs last night are a clear indication i should lay off the tequila.
I'm bringing cupcakes to work today as an apology for my actions at the bar last night, my boss probably can't look at me the same ever again
I mean, "boo" isn't the appropriate response to someone dying...
Just fantasized about my boss's fingers in a meeting. I desperately need to get some.
I licked your asshole in confidence.
You had sex with a Scottish dude with a peg leg....how could I NOT tell that story??
Also this morning I remembered seeing the stripper he threw up on later in the night. She was clothed though.
He just took off his shirt. I'll text you later.
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