I'm curled up in a ball on the floor of my office with the lights off. I hope no one notices. No more open bar. Woof.
I think we should see other people.
Already working on it.
she kept calling me pablo. i just went with it.
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
Just mixed vicodin and mucinex. This cold just got fun.
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.
she made sit in a corner, drink nothing but water and told me she was worried about me because i picked up an irish guy at a taxi rank. says the girl who invented tequila night and fucked a guy in a park across the street from a sweet sixteenth.
Apparently I was so drunk I threw my entire wallet at the stripper on stage. That was the third time I should've gotten kicked out.
I totally OverDed on K2 last night. I felt like I was made of lead and then I had a panic attack.
Yeah. Got a major ego boost when she said she felt like she had just fucked King Arthur. Buying some donuts later to celebrate with, wanna join?
He was my first. He knew. He knew right there I was wrapped around his penis.
Just spent 10 minutes washing away my own puke. This gas station lady loves me.
he brought with him gifts of cookie dough and penis. upgrading our relationship from fwb's to bf/gf was an incredibly smart merger.
You started yelling about vegans ruining the world. Because we drove past some cows eating grass.
This is why we can never be just regular friends. The shit we do is not regular
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