Now he's talking about how he's writing in a journal because he doesn't remember "his thought patterns when he was in elementary and that's distressing". I'm walking home. Fuck this.
the last thing i remember is inserting the sippy stray into the jack daniel's.
i know im back at school when i can poke any random spot on my body and expect a 80% chance that theres a bruise there
Apparently blazed enough to think that the sizzling meatballs in the pan were calling your name...Ssssteeeeeve
mom and dad are asleep. time to fish my half-full bottle of wine out from under my bed and give this christmas visit a pick-me-up.
"half-full" seems a little optimistic for the turn your night is taking.
Ummm. I just wanna say this now: Don't let me invite the band back to the apartment to see my stripper pole.
The cop was more concerned with the syringes on the dash board than looking for the source of the smoke. Thank god for diabetes!
Oh god. It's like a broken faucet. My guts sound like a bilge pump clogged with golf balls and cake frosting.
He said I could pay him back in blow jobs. What's the going rate for those these days?
You definitely in your drunken state were really concerned you would forget to buy milk today
hey remember that mom you brought home from the bar last month... she is currently driving me back to her place. turning my phone off now.
There is someone hissing in the hallway. Not even a typo. Not pissing. Hissing. Like a large cat. Or a komodo dragon.
I'm on tinder and every time somebody says something too creepy for me I start quoting scripture at them. My boobs are like missionaries.
Suffice to say, I think if people ask about your bruises, and you look them right in the eye, and say "they're from fucking...", people would be like, "respect."
I just puked in a chili’s bathroom... happy birthday to me
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