i have nine cents in my fucking bank account... not even a dime
i'm out of smokes so i just had an after sex popsicle. this might become an addiction.
i found out what alaskan girls practice during those six months of darkness
they started playing Don't Stop Believin' and you had a melt down because it wasnt the Glee version
We tried to play doctor all sexually then he was taking down my 'symptoms' I said I needed to puke he thought it was part of the game
I can hear my liver begging me not to go out tonight
This is going to be a 3 day beach sex fest. Do you understand
When you hit the 45 minute mark of any argument about The Flintstones, you have to realize: it's no longer you arguing, it's the cocaine arguing.
He just told an 8 year old to go fuck himself so we probably won't be in the butterfly exhibit much longer.
There is a pile of hair outside the apartment next door. At least now I know what all that shouting was about last night.
I feel like there should be a database and you screen your boyfriend's scrotum and all the fucked up shit they've done goes on file.
my window is missing, there is half a pizza jammed into the disk slot of my PS3, and the entire kitchen floor is covered in cerial i cant see any wood floor. did we have fun?
I didn't know. I guess I really haven't had that much time for drinking lately. I mean, outside drinking at home/work.
No, I barely made it home last nite. Kept telling cab driver I live across the street from Susan Sarandon?? Thank god her coop addy is posted online.
He was singing on top of spaghetti, and then started crying. He said it was the saddest song ever, "so so sad".
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