well on the bright side, he charges $60 for an eighth
so he'll probably take me somewhere nice
we didnt fuck last night. again. seriously, his place is like where dreams go to die.
I glued a penny on the door Tricia believes its Patrick Swayze haunting our apartment. Fuckin potheads.
Bt dubs, I still have cuts on my arm from when you attacked me with a dildo on Saturday night.
Just so we both are on the same page, I have no solid plans as to where I'll be sleeping tonight.
I only make drug deals in a British accent. It's my way of making sure it doesn't get too sketch.
Nothing says never again like hurling in the shower.
Apparently getting dressed is an all-day activity.
No memories of receiving this. Or of getting home. Or of apparently developing a taste for marmalade, which I assume is yours because I have literally never eaten it before. It's all over the kitchen. And my phone. And in my hair. Oh god I wish I wasn't on the train to work. X And sorry about the kitchen x
I think you're my mermaid sister. Separated at birth, by sea.
Dude, that was like bongs ago.
Google Maps needs to have a hungover setting. That bitch talks too loud and all I want is breakfast tacos & a bloody fucking mary.
Just found out that my name comes from part of my mom's old stripper name.
I'm done, I have no more memes or ways to ask for nudes, so yeah
Yesterday I went home with one shoe, today I go home with three. Fucking win.
Randomize
