A relator touring our house this week saw the picture in our bathroom of steven passed out, yellow faced, with BALLS on his forehead, and had to ask "if that kid was alive or dead".
It's like playing clue with my own life. I have to piece together what I did, where I was, how I did it, and who I did it to
so i literally woke up after a night of doing lines to a bag of pretzels falling off my bed. a reminder that maybe this is a contributing factor to my freshman 15.
Ya I got a cut on my head from the toilet seat last time I drank there.
the fire alarm went off. we werent sure whether to leave or turn the music up louder
sleazy september. first one with mono loses.
Is it uncouth to have a themed intervention? I know how much you like Star Wars.
Just ate a whole pizza by myself. Wearing my indian headdress again. its really cool with the french braids. I look like fucking pocahontas or some shit.
You should be proud. How many people can say they GAVE a stripper an std?
Well that's another check off the sexual bucketlist of things I never wanted to experience.
You know when you get a stripper pays your bail. You got good wood.
Apparently "I licked it so now it's mine" doesn't apply to people
I just told my mother my "if there are drugs I'm only taking them if I don't have to pay" rule and witnessed her perception of my shatter and crumble behind her eyes.
She was doing hand motions and used straws from drinks like those airport light batons to have me back my "747 jumbo dick" towards you.
I AM BEING ACCOSTED BY A HUMMING BIRD
I AM IN MILD DISTRESS
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