alright got my week's quota of sex in, ready for modern warfare 2
Just wrote a paper about alcohol abuse that sounded like my weekend...
Awkward interaction of the day: Staring at some guy trying out if he is or is not the guy that woke me up yesterday by getting arrested in front of my apartment.
Her tits were the only thing that upgraded her from "no way in fuck" to "drunken mistake"
the paramedic just looked at me like "you again?"
I'm laying here in fetal position. I feel like a traffic cone
I still can't believe he came down from his hiding place in the tree voluntarily because he didn't want us to have to talk to the cops alone...
Well apparently I decided it was easier I piss in the trash can at waffle house than In the toilet. Would've been ok if the trash can was in the bathroom.
I am tired of banking on my penis size to overcome my lack of game.
For the record, it's NEVER ok to discuss my stripper-related injuries with my fiance.
the bar didnt serve shots so jim ordered us jaeger neat. it worked.
Two ladies just showed up with my fucking purse. It was in the fucking street. I'm a train wreck. As a financial advisor, this shouldn't happen. I should be an adult.
I have bruises all over my body. Seriously, I'm a train wreck. I'm too damn old for hangovers like this.
And speaking of good acting I may have a sex tape now
I fucked that choir dude last night. he had the most strangely musical moans. it was like a Sound Of Music porno.
I'm pretty sure that cute cop drove me home. Especially since I found his card in my purse.
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