I don't believe in a God but I'm almost positive I just shit out the devil.
I just realized that when I walk away people probably say "wow she really has a drinking problem" and sadly it doesn't bother me.
when the lights went off, all i could see was the glowing of the camera light in the closet... i got the fuck out of there so fast.
Hes sobering up now. He was just really bad for like 45 minutes. He cried while he was telling me how he pictured us eating hotdogs on the beach together..
at last call she tried to get the bartender to fill her flask. when he refused, i had to stop her from trying to pour the rest of her beer in there.
My walk of shame was far more interesting today. He's moving and was cleaning out his apartment, so not only was I carrying my clothes, I also walked away with 4 bottles of cheap wine and a jar of ragu.
You would not believe how incredibly hard it is to climb on top of a three story apartment buildings roof from the air conditioning unit
I really wish I had added "blowjob on a slide at a playground" to my bucket list before last night.
I tackled a mailbox like a linebacker. He almost broke his hip and his friend lit a bottle rocket off inside of the car. Yes it was a successful night.
I was stumbling so much, men walking behind us were shouting "don't hit the pole! don't hit the pole!" whenever I was near a telephone pole.
He came so hard he burst a blood vessel in his eye. Do I have to take him to the ER? because I'm too tired for this shit.
I ran into his family and they made me a ham sandwich and I asked if they wanted to come streaking. I felt they deserved the invite.
So anyway, I'm just floating along life with my vibrator and low expectations.
I'm intrigued by how his mouth tasted the same as his dick.
You took your shirt off at the bar, handed it to a girl, and made her wash your dirty shirt on your washboard abs
tuesdays get the best of me...
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