if my spotter knew I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack on my iPod, I wouldn't even be mad if he dropped the barbell on my throat
Preparing for thanksgiving at home now by chugging bourbon. Less than a month to train!
First drunken handjob: not successful. Second handjob, mostly sober: much better. Nightly news brought to you by me.
When we started taking double shots of vodka and chasing it with a lick of fruit roll-ups, I knew there'd be hell to pay in the morning.
She just tried to talk over a fart. The fart was way longer than the sentence she originally wanted to say so she just added gibberish to the end. Gross
Hold on. At Sephora trying to decide what despair smells like.
Drank for free all night and I'm not even sleeping w the bartender. What is this magic?
Well, I washed his beard with dish soap and then I fucked him three times.
Apparently he walked into the room and started yelling at some huge hairy dude to get out of my room. Except it wasn't my room... Because he was on the fourth floor.
He hasn't responded in 6 hours and the last thing he sent me was a picture of 7 grams of coke. I'm getting kinda worried
This morning I woke up in the entrance of a retirement home. Memory fragments from last night: making it rain with the contents of my wallet over the bridge, getting hit by a car, and a lot of running.
STOP FUCKING TELLING PEOPLE ABOUT THAT TIME THAT GUY CAME ON MY FACE WHILE I WAS ASLEEP!!!
Life lesson... stop having side pieces that know each other...ffs.
Went home last night with that hot British guy. Sounded like I was f-ing in a Harry Potter movie.
Like every two minutes he would pull out and whipser "don't you do it, you bastard" while looking at his penis. His new name in my phone is 'penis whisperer'
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