mondays should just be called national damage control day
I was relieved after I found the unopened condom in my pocket. Then I found the open one in the other pocket..
I don't know at least half of his name. I have officially become a statistic.
Shoot me. Guy hitting on me with a beaver on his head. Says it is his spirit animal.
He's minimum effort, but maximum fuck.
My parents called me out on catching us walking home from the bar in a swimming motion because "it was too windy to walk" home...
Doc gave me something stronger than Xanax. The pills have your last name imprinted on them. This cannot be coincidence.
Don't mind me. My boyfriend is carrying me because I'm broken not because I'm drunk.
It's not even 9:30 yet..
actually there are like 49038098 people in the bathroom for no reason. Singing My Heart Will Go On and pseudo fighting.
I am at a new level of appreciation for drunk-you, who threw up into her own sweatshirt pocket last night in the car. Brava.
Note to self: don't try to shave your legs when sex-sore. You CANT reach, stop trying.
One of the worst parts about living at my parents again is trying to hide how often I'm hungover, just quietly puked in the basement bathroom while my mom got ready for work
I slept with my wedding DJ..... I think this means my life has come full circle
- I'm finally learning to be functional when I'm high. I feel like this is a milestone.
Looks like taco salad for lunch. I may have died and gone to be better circle in hell than I thought.
Randomize
