I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
i have a strong urge to join the asians in the park doing tai chi. I think im still high .
Things found in my vomit last night: cell phone, Von Hayes rookie card, a boot, my dignity
we walked in to her beating him with a broom while he was trying to sweep ramen into a box. there were packing peanuts everywhere.
Judging by the crutches in the living room I take it you two are fine and we aren't going out tonight?
there's a picture of you and pauly shore at a starbucks on my phone
We were thinking he might be gay. Like how the fuck do you not even make out with a girl that made you a grilled cheese
work has become about six times more interesting since i started fucking my boss.
btw I told him that the only way he was gonna get to eat you out was if he smothered your vag with grits..
Technically ya I did. Hes tried to get down my pants like 3 times now and every time I have been all "these are not the Droids you are looking for"
You have not lived until you've puked on your sequined UGGs in the Rite Aid parking lot while going to buy emergency contraceptives.
Morning! Im using your rent money to snort percocet.
No more bourbon. Sleep now. I may die. Pray for me.
For future reference, when he drunkenly screams "YOUR MOTHER SUCKS COCKS IN HELL," he means that he's about to throw up. Invest in a bucket.
If I hear that song one more time I will drive to hell and make John Lennon eat my ass.
Randomize
