If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
If I say "It's good enough" and I'm not talking about a sandwhich, that's your queue to stop me, you're supposed to be my friend.
I saw Winona at my church today. She has boobs, now.
Miracles do happen.
Reached a new low. Drinking Wine from my thermos while on the stair master.
I feel like fucking him is something we all do but don't want to admit to. like masturbating or peeing in the shower
I don't know what to be prouder of: the fact that last night i was able to successfully find my way home from evanston with 3-d glasses on, or that i was able to make my way around my house in the dark with my pants around my ankles
It's like shitshowville, population: those girls.
They put 3 tbs of cinnamon in vodka shots and called it the "cinnamon death challenge"
We did shots with the Tupperware consultant last night. I'd say the night was a success.
Now some guy that's in my phone as " Alex lip ring hot" is texting me and I don't where life is taking me
We don't have paper towels so I microwaved a spinach/egg sandwich thingy wrapped in toilet paper. Toilet paper. so that's how my day started.
I may have been mad at the Supreme Court/patriarchy and tried to hate fuck myself.
I'm very impressed by your ability to explain a story about your fiery snatch solely in emojis. props.
I described my life as a 7 layer cake of death
you put your dick on my shoulder this morning like it was a fucking parrot
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