So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
This is your typical "sorry i got drunk and tried to seduce you into having sex while you were throwing up" text.
used his ipod to set the mood...1st song was livin on a prayr 2nd song was disco stick
i expected more from guys that i meet at the jersey shore.
She walked in the room and sighed really loudly fishing for attention. but I didn't bite cuz I don't give a fuck what's wrong with her.
then we talked for a little and he asked my last name which since I have yet to get a fb request I'm 95% sure its for a restraining order
So I'm pretty sure I fucked the dept of homeland security guy on my kitchen table. No recollection of it, but there are signs.
he opened up his "box of magic": a crusty tube of KY jelly, three expired condoms, a fingertip vibrater, and a jar of marshmallow fluff.
I'm not sober enough to be having a conversation about a rap she wrote in Spanish about public safety
I feel like somebody took my brain out. Stomped on it with cleats. And then put it back together with a glue stick. Thank you.
Why can't public transit accommodate my lifestyle of drinking til midnight on a Monday?
There's still helium in the tank I found in the garbage outside the bar!
after all you did bang a few mechanics. you must have got some second hand skills by now for building us a go kart.
I'm at the point where I'm more upset that he got to keep my bottle of Fireball than that he stopped talking to me with no explanation
If we were unicorns we would fly together. Like in a pack. A pack of flying unicorns
I should never have to text my best friend asking if she eloped again last night.
Randomize
