Pants 0. Shit 1.
DAMN! I hate it when i drunkenly erase all my "sent message" and wake up in the morning and my inbox is full of "WTF?" and "Huh?" messages.
you started texting yourself and saying they were "divine messages from heaven" then you threw up on stacie's piano.
i was calling myself "cat the lion" and tried eating the computer mouse because i thought it was "my prey"
Have $25 to my name but it's $2 pitchers. I have no choice but to go.
I've already reverted to sweat pants. And lonely drinking.
laying on floor next to bathroom with vent on to give myself comfort and remind me that im not going deaf. what did i smoke?
I barely remember the girls that I got pregnant, you think I'm gunna remember the ones that played handball
4:37 am. You're wearing underwear and carpet skates. Borderline crying. You want to punch Morgan. Have not stopped singing Give Your Heart a Break.
I'm kinda surprised he wouldn't be honored to take me back as a fuck buddy.
Stay calm. It's a titty bar. A ring of cocaine will protect you.
I sent her a video on Snapchat of me cumming, with a Father's Day snap filter that said "#1 Dad".
We both shit in the same closet in Santa Fe. Nothing is sacred anymore.
Sitting in my junior high parking lot high on ambien talking to a stranger I met on tinder. What is life?
I quit doing blow for him. If that doesn’t say “I’m in love with you and want to marry you” idk what does
Randomize
