he confessed his love for me, threw up on my pillow and then fell asleep on said pillow. i met him last night.
better than last weekend. things are really looking up for you.
Every night before bed, when I used to say prayers, now I just think to myself 'freshman sluts. Soon'
if you don't go out with us, what are you gonna do? you're gonna go home and watch biodome and masturbate to texts from your east coast boyfriend and see the facebook pictures from the party when you wake up.
I'm on his itunes. He has a sex playlist. It's actually not so much a playlist as 12 Kylie Minogue songs with a big gay Whitney finish.
This is the way my sobriety ends: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
I know you claim to have a large penis but I do not believe in what i cannot see. Sort of like god.
My drunk neighbor is arguing with a goose in his yard. This was the highlight of my day.
And then you proceeded to sneak behind thee bar and hold up an empty bottle of vodka and scream LOOK WHO THE BARTENDER IS NOW BITCH!
I'm pretty sure that our Lady and The Tramp Red Vine moment was the farthest I got last night
It is a fiery spray of napalm-covered beautiful words that leave a flaming "fuck you" on the ground after I destroy him.
Sex with you deserves a trophy and a day of remembrance in honor of it.
I'm pretty sure I just smoked a chunk of cat food. Thought it was something else. No reply needed.
I'm gonna fight the coyote
Honestly after an incomprehensible political rant yoga seems like the best option at 2 am
Sorry I can't pick up... thought process is fine but too stoned to form words.
Randomize
