4 maple syrup blunts. Decided to sit on my roof and count the snowflakes that landed on my tongue. 84.
proof that my night is going well: I can still open doors
we've coined the Sunday morning ritual of taking out our puke-filled trash cans as The Trash Of Shame
I just saw a wasted dude crawl out of the road at 2 in the afternoon. Big question- still drunk from the weekend or hitting the soju already?
Well... He is a good looking man underneath all the fat and muff.
I think it says something about my life when I start picking up girls while im in rehab. And I don't think it's good.
When you mimic motorboating Jennifer Love Hewitt, is it really that hard to understand why no one thinks you're straight?
When they send me to rehab, I'm screaming your name down the halls.
You know you've been on Tinder too long when you're the guy cropped out of the profile pic. Of a woman you're still seeing...
He sent me a flaccid dick pic from the bathroom at the bar and he said I'm sorry it's not all hard and good looking. Props to him - I did ask for a pic.
I was not drunk. There was Star Wars, sex, and baby oil.
You put a bag of sliced onions in the microwave then screamed, "voila, onion rings!"
In my defense, the second lapdance I gave was because of a dare.
i shit you not. the flight is delayed because they have to change fucking light bulb. all the airport bars are closed and my shit is in checked luggage.
Turns out naked yoga wasn't a pickup line. I feel betrayed.
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