I’m once again drinking at eight am on a Sunday in my tutu. This garment is literally my best purchase ever.
there are certain things about getting into a cab to go home at 630 am that make me feel like a prostitute.
Oh right she's pregnant - that's why all of her statuses have been uber depressing
There's a difference between southern and inbred. She just doesn't know that yet.
I just told you I can't. My fingers are melting. I have discovered the high.
I got a dollar bill stuffed into my bra on two separate occasions by two separate guys simply for having boobs. I feel like somewhere god is patting himself on te back while pointing at me goin "you're welcome dude." easiest two bucks I ever made.
I had to find out that I peed in the box of baby clothes from my mom, who found out from my grandma. New low.
Hello Officers/Paramedics, judging by last night, my friend is dead. The money in his pockets is mine, he owed me. Please send me directions to whichever morgue/strip club for pick up.
Most people would probably take his lack of responses as a queue to stop. But nope, not me. I just keep going. And that's why I don't have a bf, just a little weinered friend
Our apt smells like hot shit marinated in oregano and cumin. No more taco truck dinner, fuck face. The wall paper is peeling.
You have a long distance relationship and I have a long distance snapchat sexting buddy. If that doesn't describe who we are as people then I don't know what does.
Random question, what's John-that-we-had-a-threesome-with's phone number? Don't necessarily need the full number, maybe just area code? Think I drunkenly ran into him last night and now I have texts from a John.
Wow dude wow that's sad man so sad. I dno't event wanna massturbate anymore due to teh sadness
I just talked with someone about real estate trends in Atlanta then got three blowjobs in a row. Boom.
What the hell was that?
Genius. It was sheer genius.
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