so the situation is a+b=c where "a" is how much you weight, "b" is my gravitational pull, and "c" is how erect your penis is.
just took a cab, driver just asked what i'd been drinking- i said vodka, he said "can't do vodka-drunk, it makes me feel like i'm giving birth to myself" ...no comment
I lost of the blow last night. Found it later in my bag labeled Fairy Dust.
He's a firefighter, who has his own band. I'm pregnant just thinking about him.
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
They just both started mumbling "i cant go home like this" "it's all over my face" "do you have extra pants?"
your philanthropy is ruining my sex life.
i think i was tempted to text while we were making out. like i remember holding my phone up behind his head and just staring at it.
Is it rude if I ask the current tenets of our future apartment if I can come and blackout for a night? I want stupendously drunk me to get a feel for the place so he's comfortable when we move in.
I'm also 3/4 on the frats. Its like my goal of traveling to all 7 continents, but different somehow and a lot less morally sound.
I'm gonna lurk in the mother fucking bushes and watch karma take him down like a gimpy gazelle.
The blackout version of me left a ransom note to the sober self. Somebody needs to control that guy
Option 1: fuck me and bedtime. Option 2: come fuck me and then hangout with everyone. Option 3: don't fuck me in which case fuck you.
Things I Learned Tonight: I have no future in goat wrangling. Herding. Whatever you call the ridiculosity that just transpired.
He's pretending to be my boyfriend so that my family won't bother us when we sneak off to smoke weed
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