I'm at subway, this 8 year old kid is judging my fashion sense with his dad. I want to kill myself.
It's ok, he's just 8, he's not judging you.
He just asked why I'm sitting alone. I honestly want to cry.
woke up to find a pram in the balcony. first thing we did was look over the edge!
He was singing "i gotta feeling" under his breath as i was pulling my top off.
To the genius that put everclear in my humidifier: your time is coming.
Last night I texted her to confirm she could start designing costumes for my show this week.
That is one convoluted booty call.
I fucking give up. OKC is where small penises go to disappoint me.
If your plan is to re-bang every girl you banged in high school - you're gonna need a spread sheet and clip board.
And know that if I ever text "road head?" that it comes from a place of caring and not a place of heartlessness..
I just shit my pants and had a heart attack. Simultaneously. May or may not be related to this game.
I am never taking a razor down there again. He'll have to love me as I am.
I'm making poor life decisions again. Tune in tomorrow to see how much I hate life.
if you come you're not allowed to wear pants. if you arrive wearing pants you won't be wearing them long.
Yeah plus that night got so disgusting it's basically a repressed memory anyway
...and with one comment dissing Hannibal Lecter, I suddenly understood why we never worked out.
I'm eating ice cream out of my purse
Randomize
