I solve my problems like an adult, at the strip club drinking on a work night.
Oh well shit happens. This is my not worried face. This is also my still decently drunk face.
Because it is about to snow, I sent him for Diet Coke and cigarettes. It's the gay version of milk and bread.
Spent 200 bucks on a stripper for a good night hug. I give up.
Please don't let me drink ever again. I apparently told him he could stay but as there was no room in the bed he'd have to lie on top of me and he'd need to anchor himself on with his penis so he didn't fall off.
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
So I come back home and a huge flock of enormous vultures are on my roof
They're waiting for you to die
After a roaring rendition of Jay-Z's "99 Problems but a bitch ain't one" I ended up making her cry on her birthday.
What if he turns back to me, finds me seemingly fondling my breasts, and thinks I'm turned on by eagles?
As long as he continues to be our subleaser and continues to fuck me, I think it's acceptable for me to steal a piece of bread here and there.
So i came so hard i almost passed out, where has this vibrator been all my life?
So from zero to dumpster fire, how shitty do you feel this morning? I'm hovering somewhere around trainwreck.
Did you fill my inhaler with tequila?
Yeah, so?
The only words we could get out of him as he stared catatonically into space were "Everyone I know and love is dead"
I forgot that I'm high because of how high I am.
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