there was enough confetti in my bra to throw another NYE party
Somehow last night, my dad got me so drunk that I ended up throwing up on the couch, turning the cushions over to hide it, and going to sleep on them.
The night was doomed the minute I started taking shots with an apple as a chaser.
I'm okay.. I had a good heart to heart with the cab driver Raheem - it's going to be our year.
Wanna tell me why vodka seeped out of the memory foam when I climbed into my bed?
Maybe it was silver. I don't know. I was drunk sifting through my dogs vomit.
Fuck your 100 proof Hot Damn. Do you know what 100 proof vomit tastes like? Anger.
I'm pricing out a roll of that wax butcher paper. We fuck too messy and I can't afford to wash them every afternoon.
I think my Halloween costume this year will be made entirely of pillows and I'll be Marshmellow girl or Kirby. That way I'm comfortable, warm, and if I fall over drunk I'm safe.
Things are very odd on my 29th hour of being awake. Thought there was a bird in my lecture hall and it was just a girl putting up her hair. What even
I knew this night was headed for bad when I was drinking cherry bombs out of a sippy cup in the shower
smoked four grams out of a bong with a mixture of pool water and white rum. I applaud you for leaving before losing too many brain cells.
Being sober is boring. Tomorrow I'm def bringing wine and my vibrator to work. Might even booty call that hot guy on floor 5. Making the last week at this job legendary.
All I'm sayin is that I don't want to raise anything. Or deal with anything. Or having anything come out of my vagina. I mean, I don't think that's asking too much.
And then he said, "let's have sex and I'll send you home with enchiladas."
Randomize
