I'm twenty-five. I'm too old to be watching my friend throw up in Chipolte Parking lot.
The weather is perfect in Seattle right now. Warm enough for girls to not wear bras, but cold enough for me to see them nipping out in the shade.
she's in the bathroom. spitting in the trashcan. not throwing up. just spitting and singing bad romance by lady gaga.
thatta girl
I just heard someone say "gosh-darnit" and they didn't have a southern twang. I worry for New York.
your brother is wearing shin guards in the swimming pool. i have a feeling that this happens often
Too long to explain. Basically I started an electircal fire. No one was hurt except for a box of cereal near the outlet.
Nothing is more important than the last pool party of the season. Call in sick or gay or something.
the night probably should have been over when the guy let her fill out my mechanical bull waver for me because i couldn't read
No more. You can't have nice things, and vodka is a nice thing.
So I have to send you an email about my weekend, heretofore referred to as The Perfect Weekend. Wherein I have lots of awesome sex with a guy with THE MOST AMAZING BODY.
I look forward to this email. I will respond with, Condoms and Creepers: The Adventures of Online Dating.
this whole "benign brain tumor" is truly a blessing in disguise. I almost want to start bringing MRIs to the bar because sympathy pussy is flowing like the nile
Ugh, I should just give up, and fuck him in a parking lot, and shave my head and walk naked through the streets of King's Landing.
I slept on her porch...in her dads handcuffs
Remember I am not doing blow tonight. I REPEATE NO COCAINE unless I do it with your mom
But seriously like how many girls do you know that will do that on the first date?
One?
ONE! And it was was glorious!
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