I say that when we get our grades back we're making a drinking game out of it.
fuck. I just remembered I agreed to let you finger me last night for solely for "scientific purposes"
on todays agenda: meeting with a life coach then going to the dollar store to buy batteries for my vibrator. clearly im still unemployed.
I would do laundry with you but I vaguely remember swallowing all my quarters last night as some kind of trick.
Either way, he made a blog for his cat.
as she was beating the hell out of his ex, she screamed prison rules, and smashed her head with a beer bottle. I'm oddly afraid yet so attracted to her now.
I kept trying to give you water and you kept spitting it back at me. You looked like a camel. People were staring
I want to be ashamed of the things we do this weekend
the potatoes in the margarita machine wasn't the breaking point. its when he turned on the stove and put a bunch of bottle rockets on it that i knew the night had prematurely failed
I tried to interpretive dance to Candy Shop to stop the awkwardness.
I accidentally walked in the wrong house but I somehow left with a chicken leg. Good fucking night.
For future reference.... When you take a beer out of a 6pack... You don't insert your phone as a substitute.
the girl whose rug I peed on is here
I was intimate with him for twenty minutes and will be intimate with shame for twenty years.
I'm currently sitting at your kitchen table eating chicken nuggets that I dug out of the trash and thinking about how much I need to get laid.
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