Apparently I signed "I love you" on my bar tab last night.
I just scratched behind my ear and found icing. Fuck you.
My favorite part was walking in the bathroom, you fixing yourself in the mirror, calling your reflection a fag, then throwing a haymaker into the paper towel dispenser before going back out to the bar.
It's like playing clue with my own life. I have to piece together what I did, where I was, how I did it, and who I did it to
when i got there he was on top of an air mattress in the middle of the pool with a bag of doritos and a 40 telling people he needed his space.
no more duck duck goose at the bar
Please tell me your aunt didn't see the Brita pitcher full of condom wrappers. We had at least 100.
I refuse to fuck a guy who needs a coozy for his beer. NOT EVEN IN DESPERATE TIMES LIKE THESE.
Sad Megan is Sad
Have you been drinking my beer?
Oh shit. My drunken car sex is on Google Earth.
I have to take tonight off from shenanigans. My liver is planning a coup
There's nothing quite like having a little 8 year old boy hand me a Bible on campus while I'm on my way to the health center because of my recent slutty tendencies.
Well. Now I feel like I put pants on for nothing.
I just had to go dumpster diving, at 3am, in the rain, because I realized that I somehow threw away the brand new package of birth control pills I picked up from the pharmacy this afternoon. So I'm sort of a responsible adult.
Only thing that feels right is being horizontal in the fetal position
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