I can no longer count the number of girls I've banged on my fingers and toes. It's like being born again.
Just gave my little brother the collection of clothes that boys have left in my room since I've been in college for his birthday.
Ah shit... I sleep-ate chocolate pudding again.
my car smells like vomit and bananas. this can't really be my life.
she's drunk at 2 in the afternoon again. at least my mother is predictable.
I usually just read books and meditate to an aquatic soundtrack of sea walrus's mating. But ill choose coors light instead
I hate it when fuck holes buy me drinks at the bar. You don't know my order. You don't know me. You don't know where I've been. You don't know my life.
After my lunch today, I've got $10 till Sunday night. I am losing at life.
Beer and xanax may be a bad combo, but I don't really care due to the beer and the xanax.
all his sexual metaphors involve condiments, should I worry?
YOU RAISED A SWORD OVER YOUR HEAD AND SCREAMED AT HIM WHAT THE FUCK ELSE DID YOU THINK WOULD HAPPEN?!
This is a mass text. Who in the hell shat on my stairs last night?
Can you pay somone's bail with a credit card or just cash? I feel like you would know this.
I finally realized he drank way too much when he tried serenading me to the song "come my lady" while slowly and creepily making his way toward me...keeping constant eye contact.
I expected my Sunday morning walk of shame dressed as a sexy Dorothy would get some scorn, but nobody seems to even care
That’s because it’s 2020. The slutty costume walk of shame is a refreshing reminder of a time when wearing masks and catching communicable diseases was a right of passage, not everyday for the foreseeable future.
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