last night I thought his shirt said yale... but this morning it definitely says old navy.
dont seek real advice from me tonight cause its always gonna end with we should have sex
Balcony sex scratched the shit out of my phone. Whups.
Eating doritas dunked in queso con salas. Salllas. Salska. Salsa. Got it. Shhiitt. Salsa con queso. That's better. I'm hot pink socks.
i crashed through a building. if that counts then yes, i went out with a bang.
I can feel the judgmental stares of Christians from around the world right now.
Last time we talked he was trying to sext me but he was including pictures of fruit
You understand the drunkenness of my drunkenness
what compelled you to fill her bra with pudding and freeze it in the first place?
i might remember if i didn't get knocked out with it later that day.
Romantically speaking, I want to sit on his face.
Also I can show up hungover, fall asleep at my desk, and smell like a bottle of whiskey, and they still like me more then my shitty co worker
I know you've been in hospital with meningitis, but last night I walked into a streetlight and bruised my penis so who's really suffering here
I knew you were on something when you said you were a puppy and you ate all the frosty Paws dog ice cream which says not for human consumption right on the side of it.
"keg stand!" on a roof abruptly turned into "call the medics"
At what point did i decide poptarts, nyquil, and whiskey was a good idea?
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