how was last night?
i woke up with my hand stuck in a jam jar with my keys in the bottom and a dog licking peanut butter off my boobs. you tell me.
I need to talk about my life with someone. Preferably with someone who hasn't tried to jizz on me
I'm pre-party power houring. It's so catchy I couldn't not do it
blah blah blah they called me an alcoholic because I threw my beer at a Jesus freak. it was for the best
my roommate is sobbing and looking at photos of elephants. i'm so confused.
He actually has his life put together though, during the date we walked by a shoppers drugmart where my friend and I once flashed a janitor and all I could wonder was how does he not see shit show written all over me?
I wasn't that drunk, I know my limits. When peeing became difficult I stopped taking shots.
Best part of Friday afternoon drinking? Having ping pong balls thrown into my cleavage.
My dad just bought me a 40. I consider this our peace treaty.
I was trying to fart in my sleep in the hopes that he would leave
I'm drunk at 3:28
I'm jealous as shit at 3:34
Like I'm literally drinking whiskey and making a stocking for my cat right now. What. Goes. On.
We didn't mean to put a petting zoo in the elevator.
Like when I see him I look straight through his appearance and just envision a big walking penis.
Damn you. I'm in a bar with Southern Jesus Fearing Blah Blah Rednecks WHO ARE PROBABLY VOTING FOR TRUMP and you go radio silent.
Randomize
