I wasn't fucked. I was just drunk, because i was still able to walk into the woods and masterbate.
highlight of my day: just saw a crying girl get dropped off at home wearing only socks, booty shorts, and a dirty wifebeeter. I wonder what happened to the costume...
Today was the day I stopped kidding myself and started buying the handle of vodka.
This whole foot fetish thing is getting out of control. He would rather hold my feet than me after we fuck.
I just had a flashback of 4:30am: me hugging the toilet bowl and you handing me a jar of pickles to open. There is something seriously wrong with us.
dude. this chick is staring at me like i gave her brother herpes.
in literally every picture i'm wearing less and less of my costume.
Drank a fosters this weekend and last weekend. Listening to down under 5 times a day. Spent 100 dollars on a sleeveless men at work shirt circa 1983. We don't leave for another 5 weeks. I call it pregaming.
They're not that bad of drunks, they come back to the vehicle with more stuff than they went in with, so its a profitable venture.
I can't believe I ever hated her sister or friends. They got her some sexy sexy ass lingerie for the honeymoon. I think I love them bitches
Im in my back seat in my own drive way with two beers left to shotgun and watching the sunrise. Am I over her yet?
Do you think I'm short enough to dress up in a ghost costume and go trick or treating and have people believe that I'm actually a child?
You just gave me the title for the series of our lives. Haha. Chapter 12: the cocaine on the back of the hairbrush
Drinking and decided to streak in the apartment fountain. Canadian goose shit and sharp rocks on the bottom. I sobered up quick. That was a very bad idea.
I was puking for like ten minutes when I realized my parents were fucking in the shower and were afraid to come out
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