There is an old man sitting across from me. Phone rang and his ringtone is children giggling, I'm not safe here.
I was going through my mom's high school yearbook...almost half the people who signed it referred to her as "Karen Smokejoints", "Confused Karen", or drew a picture of a joint. I have never felt more like her daughter.
Ok. In one sink is a hairdrier. Still plugged in. The other is filled with broken glass. What do I do?!
Nvm. Bloody hand trumps dead. Also, where is gauze.
I made him sleep with a condom on and i passed out on the carpet with only a bra on.
I know it was you because you're the only person I know who gets drunk and craves soup.
Soup is delicious
Let's not refer to him as Dustin. That makes him seek like a real person, not just a dick I would like to experience.
Am I the only one that feels like there are hundreds of tiny people having a rave and stomping and kicking around inside my head this morning?
I need a present that says please like me even though i'm banging your grandson
Yeah. That's the shitty part. God, I don't want to be a step mom. Sure I'm great with kids, but I just want unlimited sex and not have to worry about making friends with a fucking 7 year old.
Mom told me you snuck booze into a concert in a cheez its box...I have never been prouder to be related to you
I just want to slap everyone in the face that's happy being sober. Loser.
I don't know if I'm more excited about sex or that I have an excuse to smoke a cigarette
Don't you hate falling asleep on the couch with a glass of wine in your hand? It's like dreaming about peeing and then realizing you've peed the bed only stickier.
All I remember is receiving a lap dance to slow motion.
I mean, I was expecting a little more coke snorting and a little less kids and cake
Randomize
