I'm pretty sure the only race ive ever won was to my mothers egg
whatever sunny in Philadelphia does on Thursday nights, I'm doing all weekend.
There is something depressing about eating toast in a dark living room by myself using a paper plate that says: "Let's Party!"
the tile , carpet , walls , cabinets , even the ceiling ... there is Jello everywhere
it was your idea to have indoor Jello wrestling man
there is a strobe light in my taxi. in what way is this safe.
And apparently midway I said "hurry up and finish so we can talk about what a bad idea this was"
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
Her virginity is one of the last things that remains of our childhood.
Dunno why I keep hitting snooze. It's never gonna give me the kind of sleep I need to be sober.
Xanax and an ambien. And wine. I'm just waiting for mouth to mouth from some hot EMT. Sort of like the slutty girls version of sleeping beauty
I slipped in the shower today and broke my lighter..
Simultaneously sexting while making brunch plans. Multitasking at its gayest.
If I get one more "oh yaaaaa he changed your oil" texts, I'm gonna lose my shit
Unfortunately i'm awake, hungover, and covered in something I'm pretty sure is Easy Cheese. Send help.
dude, you ran into a window then asked ME what the fuck I was doing.
Randomize
