I just woke up under a kitchen table with my sandals taped to my feet and a corona bottle taped to my hand..
It's like playing clue with my own life. I have to piece together what I did, where I was, how I did it, and who I did it to
what kind of wine goes with anal sex and shame?
It was a two-sided wall so part of my body ended up in someone elses condo.
I just saw a dude sitting IN a bush, weeping and playing a harmonica. I hope your day is going better than his.
I can't tell which way is up. Too many corners around his house too. An arbitary assimilation of edges.
Christ, I swear you are the high man's Dr. Seuss.
In the sauna. Drunk. When I close my eyes I think I'm a dog. Is that wrong?
Periouds do not concern me. Biploogival needs are buological needs.
I have to answer enough questions about you, I don't need your uterus tossed in the conversation.
Don't pretend you don't want to dance on the edge of overdose all three nights
Awareness is good for change and all, but ignorance is bliss. I like bliss.
I mean it's a good blow job, but it's not worth the four hour round trip.
If Plan B had a rewards card I would have earned so many free tote bags by now
I've never had to kick an employee out of bed to go to work before.
Going back to our hometown to help Gramma move. Thinking we should see if we can fuck on the desk of the homophobic coach who first introduced us while in town.
Randomize
