Pick my eyebrow is burning. I'm sitting in the back of dolows vat and listening to jolly music and wilfgang is signing and looking food. Cute kid. Home is where I go now.
what. the. fuck.
i have absolutely no control over my now miserable and whore-ish lifestyle.
Note left in log book: "4:30am a guy was caught masturbating in the bathroom and passed out in his own juices and we had to take the door off the hinges."
You guys are open that late?
Worst part of St. Paddy's...me drunkenly crying to a U2 cover band.
I keep reminding myself that my vagina isn't a homeless shelter.
I feel like I have African malaria. I just remembered singing Teenage Dream in full to that biker couple at the bar.
Went to the wedding reception, and he left with ALL of the brides maids phone numbers. I don't know how he does it either.
Aaaand I cut your bangs with a large knife last night ...
bah. we'll see. don't give yourself a boner of false hope.
He sent me a vid of himself jerking off. I hope his hands are the size of tennis rackets or it will be a very short date.
Well, after emptying the contents of my stomach into a fucking rose bush, the only things moving through my digestive system are pills, coffee, and my own lip gloss. If that gives you any idea what kind of a day I'm having.
I don't know if I want to fuck him or punch him in the face.
Yeah! Just remind me to. I'll also bring the blow up penis
It's official. Post baseball sex is better than post hockey sex. I hope the Blue Jays win the world series.
I feel asleep with my contacts in, with my arms wrapped around a bottle of vodka. Also... Do we have class today?
Randomize
