My neighbor is on the his front porch in a robe dipping a popsicle into what appears to be vodka. I want to be his son.
The only requirement is that his name is Kevin... All other factors don't matter to drunk me. Drunk me likey Kevins.
I'm getting flash backs of last night. They're coming in song form.
Everything sucks i just wanna cry and smoke a bowl and pet my cat and die. All at the same time
Well im sitting on a futon on a porch at 1:30 in the afternoon drinking boxed wine out of a pint glass next to a chick with a homemade neckbrace. What do you think?
I feel like having peed on eachother is a point in our lives we should never have gotten to...
i'm exhausted. do you know how hard it is to put together an outfit that is professional enough to secure a babysitting job yet slutty enough to let him know i'm down for sex during naptime?
Dude, i don't know. I don't remember anything after we started chanting/playing "shot of gin."
Please tell me you've ingested more than weed and Oreos today
I threw up for like 20 hours. Im gonna be the DD for the next 5 years.
I would do everything over again, except the fireball.
And thanks! There are perks to polyamory. And birthday orgies are one of them
I wrote a pretty good eulogy, too. Motherfucker pastor had no sense of comedic timing.
So uh... Did you mail me business cards that describe my profession as "tortured soul"?
So bottomless mimosas = me waking up in a truck bed in a random neighborhood with no purse or phone or idea how I got there.
Randomize
