i'm stoned. there's a jazz trio playing outside across the street...scared that mike myers will appear & start yelling 'woman...WHOA MAN. WHOOOA MAN.' i'm snapping my fingers.
i told her that she could bring as many friends as she wanted and then she asked how many people i could fit in my bed...BEST. DAY. EVERRRR.
Yo I'm texting you while getting a bj. I know, I'm the man. Told her I was texting my mom in the hospital.
Also I smoked away my sore throat last night. It's a 420 miracle.
oh my god, just saw a man throw up in a trashcan and blood came out of his nose. HES GETTING ON MY BUS. HES SITTING ACROSS FROM ME. FUCK.
I'm laying in bed listening to Purple Rain on repeat. If you wanna bone, come up, but if not, at least Prince understands me.
I'm so incredibly high right now the fact I am texting is nothing short of miraculous. Call the Pope. Hell make me Saint Roy, patron of stoners.
turns out it took a Belgian couchsurfer dressed as Heisenberg to rock my world.
Let's play the game let's see how long Kayla can be sober
Also he said my vagina was sculpted by gods so there must be some feelings here.
I love the smell of your bedroom. It smells of a mixture of cherries, leather, and unrequited homosexual desire.
Oh no...did you put star fish over your nipples again?
Okay, but that still doesn't explain all the glitter in my puke.
I want to strut with the confidence of a pigeon.
No. I'm home alone and 100% dickless. I hate my life.
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