I'm on the bus going to class. And a cop just rolled by and I got nervous because I didn't have my seatbelt on. I have to stop smoking so much weed.
I feel like I'm a marionette being lifted around. Four Loko.
I mean, once you help another girl drunker than you zip her jeans you can't help but be friends after that
there were staples in my comforter. what kind of sex did we even have?
When I got up in the middle of the night, puked in his trash can, and snuck out the front door, I pretty sure he knew it was over.
If by "in control" you mean him showing-up to work wasted, calling a customer a "fuckstick," and getting fired on the spot? Then yes, he is.
The chlamydia really affected his face.
I found a half-finished mass text from my California weekend that said "things I want to rape: you, things, stuff, and le"
You're wonderful. How are you always such a good friend?
50% genetics, 50% driven by a desire for people to drunkenly eat donuts at my funeral and then have fantastic cry-sex afterward.
I felt like a personal hot pocket and all I could taste was cigarettes.
You just referred to a pillow with a stolen bra strapped to it as "she". Let that sink in for a minute.
This is ridiculous. I’m in fucking college getting high off a potato.
I need a costume for that party. Even if I'm just taking it off.
Not sure when or why this happened but I just stopped giving a shit about everything
How are they?
Amazing! These new boobs are going to break blouse buttons and wedding vows!
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