my brain is sober enough to have a conversation.. but my arms feel nice
Mental picture: Us at a bar keeping it classy shot gunning PBR's in the corner.
That was a good example of when keeping it real goes right
the sex was "jacking off to playboy" bad.
But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
Close your eyes and stop texting and think about puppies. You'll be fine.
You and Eric are like slutty bowling balls, and that poor family are the pins. They won't know what hit em.
strike, motherfucker.
if i'm ever face-down on the ground puking again, promise me you won't try to braid my hair?
I mean, I introduced myself as "the after party". I think he knew early in the night he was in for a bangathon.
Apparently I blacked out and started wrestling with some dude last night. Just found out I might have dislocated his shoulder. Best part: he still wants to bone me
I've started drunk signing up for 5ks. Who even does that?
Eat your greens and take your tequila shots
SMOKEY THE BEAR CAME AT US WITH FUCKING AXES IN MY DREAM I THINK IT IS A SIGN TO STOP BLAZING IT IN THE WOODS
He came all over her clothes we have to leave
Somehow I woke up next to the bouncer who kicked us out of the bar last night...
I JUST SNEEZED WITH A MOUTHFUL OF CHEWED UP CASHEWS AND THEY CAME OUT MY NOSE AND IT HURT AND NOW I HAVE A LITTLE NOSEBLEED
Randomize
