I just looked at the maps icon on my IPhone and "eR" was typed in the search address bar. I wonder if we ever got there.
Jerry just sent me this: IOR GHIT ALL THE BUTTIB. Go get him. Now.
I'm at Home Depot to get supplies to fix the wall we cracked by fucking too hard against the bookshelf.
Vodka @ 9pm. Library. Nothing can go wrong, I promise.
Some cougar Brit said she loved me. America is bouncing back.
Only I could host a baby shower where the cops get called.
Good, I don't think Coke dipped ring pops hold up in the mail anyway.
Also, I had mind-blowing sex on a pool table
So my plane's delayed and some guy is talking to "sparkles" he just told her to never again sell drinks from her cleavage. This is why I don't go home
It's my birthday. I should be drinking mimosas in a top hat, not working.
If you shit your pants and not say anything about it right before we have sex one more time I'm dumping you.
I can't go to Fassler and not immediately think about you licking a guys wife's butthole in the family restroom
You got up in the middle of a sentence, puked, came out and poured another glass of wine and continued your story.
I just woke up, dressed as Chris Brown, with a bunless hot dog (presumably from 7/11) in my pocket, wearing a pair of shoes I don't recognize as my own. Help.
So, my first week in Saskatchewan ended with me drinking moonshine and getting eaten out in a tractor. I already love it here!
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