I just blew my nose and little bits of weed came out.
I am watching the CFL at a Hooters in Texarakana. I made a poor life choice at some point that led me here.
Dear sober self: your car keys are in the glove compartment, your car is outside the church. I hope you're reading this from your own bed instead of someone else's.
The world is my kaleidiscope. I see whatever the alcohol wants me to.
I feel like fucking him is something we all do but don't want to admit to. like masturbating or peeing in the shower
How exactly do I approach the whole "Well that was fun. Am I purchasing the Plan B or you?" topic?
I began mixing captain Morgan and jack daniels and called it captain jack sparrow. I puked. a lot.
I plan on showing these boobs to so many people that by the end of it ill just have a shirt of beads.
I just want to be naked all the time but not in a sexual, come-hither and look at my ass sort of way. In a slightly chubby yet not ashamed way as I eat Taco Bell and lay on soft fuzzy blankets.
Just so you know my hand is still healing from where you drunkenly clawed me last Saturday
I'm on my way back with the wine... And a puppy. It was free.
Things I have learnt this week: bubble mix is toxic. Extremely toxic.
We smoked before the sunrise hike. I ended up eating a banana and singing Circle of Life as the sun rose over the horizon.
I mean we all knew i was gonna get arrested eventually but shoplifting is lame so dont tell anyone. Well just let them assume public nudity or something
I texted him: “Come over for the Super Bowl. I promise lots of scoring.”
My divorce is turning into a porn script
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