I have a voicemail from Mike at 1am. He starts to say something, but then throws up instead.
Your my favorite hello and hardest goodbye.
And I especially mean that last part, half the time you pass out somewhere and it is impossible to get you to leave.
He asked me if we could throw a lingerie party together so I guess he's single again
There is nacho cheese and blood everywhere.
sorry can't make it tonight, greg's getting back from italy. he's had two weeks of carbs and no gym; now's my chance to get myself a piece of that newly-fat, low self-esteemed ass.
Times like this, when you talk openly about Tinkerbell being your spirit animal, are times when I'm allowed to question your sexuality.
I'm not asking you to commit. I'm politely asking your penis to be my friend.
I just got my hands on some dry ice. How do you feel about coming home to a mystical wizard toilet?
Do I really need this much space in my mouth?
Are you already high?
Who am I sleeping next to in your bed? Where are you? Also when are you coming home... I need coffee.
We made out and he didn't grope me. I liked it. I felt like I was innocent again.
It was inevitable. It was like I was a caterpillar and now I'm a drunk and high butterfly
I tried to bring you in when you passed out on the porch but all you said was that I "ruined your hope ands dreams of becoming an astronaut"
I'm still questioning who dropped me off last night. So successful wedding?
Only I could turn my one night stands into class essays. Go me.
Randomize
