just had to take a 4 hour nap to write a one page paper. its obviously the week after winter break.
My drug dealer is spending the weekend in my studio apartment. I feel like I've crossed a line that should never be crossed.
It's like the only way I know how to apologize is by giving a blow job.
He had a cowboy hat I don't know where from and he was trying to lasso a snowman with a dog leash.
Turns out my drunken logic and wordsmithing isn't quite the same as the sober version. I'm pretty sure I made fun of the managers mom at one point
I demand visitation hours with the duck.
It was like god placed me in his bed and said," here's your shot girl. Don't mess this up." And I looked at god and laughed in his face.
I think I just got a contact from my own exhale. Def dying.
I have a video (on my shattered iphone) of a random DJ at some bar giving me a birthday shoutout and texts from random numbers talking about birthday sex. My birthday is in April... Happy birthday to me?
The cabbie told me fat girls shouldn't wear tight clothes, and that he feels bad for the guys that have to be underneath them, especially because their positions are "very limited" and proceeded to ask me if I had a trash can and if I could throw something away for him. Don't worry though, he promised it wasn't anything "bad". He then handed me a tied up grocery bag with a bunch of wadded up Kleenex that weighed about 3 pounds. To answer your question, yes I made it home. Fml
I am too drunk to be out in this weather around all these animals.
I feel like you just railed me after that sext
I threw up through my nose tonight. Happy cinco de mayo
he's drunk and referred to his shoes as foot condoms
If he ever pulls my hair again, I'm going to conveniently have lock jaw. Then he can decide whether pain during sex is still fucking appealing.
Randomize
