Today I realized that I've had whole drunk relationships with people. And sober me has and wants no part in it.
I am good. I dancing. Drinking but dancing fine.
He kept referring to his penis a his "love gun"
It was like watching Stephen Hawking try to swim.
I made a mac n' cheesicle. Better in my head than in real life. Gonna keep smoking to see if it gets better.
And I know a few people wouldnt want to even be around high people. Which is sad. But jet packs are cool.
I drank myself into bisexuality again.
Remind me to tell you the one about the cashier that wouldn't sell me Jim Beam and NyQuil.
A very small part of me wants you to appreciate me for more than just my breasts. But the rest of me is breasts.
when someone at the bar asked you a question all you knew how to say was "chug-a-lug"
I should also mention that having been a sheltered child, I am conditioned to have serious kinks and find upper bodies of either sex attractive. And legs.
I just crawled out of bed at 5AM to make her a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear whips cracking.
On the way home there was a guy passed out IN the road on Colfax with his pants around his ankles, completely bare assed. If he was dressed as a speed bump, he succeeded.
There's mini weenies and empanadas everywhere...
Just packed vodka and spare underwear into my purse- totally set for watching the hockey with him tonight
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