Did some E, K, G, and Coke, and taught myself to dance sort of like a person who knows how to dance.
She was pushing my cock into her vagina, but I thought it was just a nervous tic she had, so thought nothing of it. Then she asked if I wanted to thrust, but I said ‘Nah, my pelvis is OK right here, thanks.’
—RBubbaMagillicutty on the topic of males not being able to take hints when it comes to sex.
I once left a hotel suite covered in about 400 empty whippet cannisters, with six empty bottles of cough syrup, and some children’s books and toys scattered about. That was one hell of a Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
Anonymous asked: im glad i found your tumblr cuz you act like an asshole at shows, or at least the comadre one you went to, have some fucking respect, my friend was about to beat your fucking ass but i told him newbs will b newbs, basically if i or any of my homies ever see you again and acting like an asshole jumping on everyone every 10 seconds we will fuck your day up, thx 4 understanding <3
I am honestly sort of giddy with excitement over receiving this love letter from you, I have never had a secret admirer on tumblr. I just knew that my awesome stage diving and crowd surfing skills would someday catch the eye of a lovely trendy hardcore lass such as yourself. I admit, I come from a strange and terrible place, where the ground is littered with glass, and my daring antics largely go unnoticed by a jaded and drunken audience. Although I may not understand your way of conveying gratitude, for my demonstration on how to properly enjoy yourself at a show, I appreciate it nonetheless and I am sufficiently flattered. However, I regret to inform you that I play for the other team. My boyfriend, that buff young marine corps lad that shouted out “Pizza Sucks!” and other various obscenities, would likely not approve of this steamy discourse. He and I are both raging alcoholics and we love to beat each other to a pulp while naked and roll around in broken glass. Although, I am sure we could still be friends, so I would love to coordinate our show schedules, or I could have my mother call your mother to arrange a play date. Or, in march when my boy friend gets back from the 7th layer of hell, maybe we can plan a double date over some pizza at my restaurant with you and your boy. (510) 550-5241
PS, send my regards to the homeboys.
Here is a picture of us at the top of a mountain.
It is called the “When Harry met Sally” phenomena.
Hey guys, what the fuck is going on with this rug right now?
—Me on ketamine.
Fuck, Fight, Drink, Smoke, Coke.
Playing Trivial Pursuit with the family when I was a kid, my uncle was getting trounced by his wife, father-in-law, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and his 10 year old nephew. Every time he didn’t know the answer (which was fairly frequently), he would shout “Eli Whitney!”
So, the game is wearing on, and he is trailing behind.
Question pops up for him:
“Who invented the cotton gin?”
He stands up pumps his fists in the air, and shouts at the top of his lungs.
He still lost the game.