I think misery doesn't even think of me as company anymore. I'm an unofficial roommate.
i was calling myself "cat the lion" and tried eating the computer mouse because i thought it was "my prey"
I just realized my mom and I make the same noises when we have sex. Fuck.
Apparently I took one a huge picture off the wall at the bar and was walking around dancing with it..
It's all good. The CSI guy came and I played the theme song while he in was in our place. The cops even laughed.
Well im sitting on a futon on a porch at 1:30 in the afternoon drinking boxed wine out of a pint glass next to a chick with a homemade neckbrace. What do you think?
Why can't it ever be the normal ones that stalk me?
New discovery: pineapple flavored vodka. Life made, liver in jeopardy. Graduation t-minus 50 minutes.
We'll talk about this tommorrow when I'm not mistaking my fingers for French fries....
Dude, the lecture theatre is caving in on me.
Part of me really wants this picture, but the other part of me knows if he is really this drunk, he could be sodomizing a lamp and not know it
dont know how to tell my grandparents I woke up in a frat house in the wrong town and that's why I can't see them today
Your parents are gone and we haven't fucked in their bed... why?
That would involve putting on clothes and I don't think I can face that right now.
We're going to watch the inauguration and fuck. Or fuck and watch the inauguration, I'm not picky, just get your ass over here by ten.
Randomize
