Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
3 st and 6 ave. One dollar pitchers. Look out world.
ugh. people who use coupons make me wanna punch a baby.
I need to surround myself with more reliable stoners...
Can we just schedule bi-weekly fucks and bypass all the bullshit?
He was passed out on the floor holding a beer can, rolled over switched hands and never spilled a drop. We need to practice.
Made a pan flute out of the varyingly empty beer bottles on the table. Played a glorious tune that paid tribute to the winds.
I make one hell of a fire on Ambien. Other life choices not so much. But fire. Fire I can do.
I messaged him asking for his address. He replied with the address then said, "If you're gonna stalk me, I'm the third window on the side and usually get naked around 8am and anytime randomly after 6pm (listen for music).. If you're sending anthrax, I'm 6'2" 225lbs so send a good amount."
not a day goes by that I don't wish you were here or I there. Today it was because I had the desire to get high and go look at the jellyfish at the aquarium and you're the perfect buddy for that.
we were both freshly single and using each other as rebounds. most intense sex I've ever had. i felt like a grizzly bear emerging from hibernation in a whirlwind of sexual fury
Bjs and tacos. That's my life.
I've had sex to the movie Tommy Boy too many times to be acceptable.
we were having a conversation about big dicks and the chick at the table beside us turned to us said "me and my boyfriend just broke up a few days ago. Could you please NOT talk about big dicks"
My alcoholism is old enough to drink.
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