It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
I'm in the library if you wanna come give me library head.
She left me a voicemail too. It's just her moaning her name repeatedly
as they left, you opened the door, dropped your pants then yelled "don't leave, this is what you're missing"
she refused to get out of the dog cage till we sang "be our guest" to her.
Let's have a moment of silence for the guinea pig that drunk chick threw out our window.
The really sad thing is that I actually practiced crawling in my room yesterday in preparation for today
Fuck you. You would only tell me how to get to your house in Spanish.
Cocaine Wednesdays have to stop turning into no work Thursday
All I remember is running out of the bathroom with one shoe on and the other in my hand. Pretty sure I was yelling as well.
EVERYONE IS SPEAKING SPANISH. I ONLY KNOW HOLA.
But you can still look for dick after you find Jesus.
I had sex with him in the back of my car in a duck onesie. I'm worth something dammit.
I am drunk at 8am listening to Cyndi Lauper and dressed up in a penguin suit
Our breakfast options are microwave popcorn, wavy lays and fireball
Randomize
