I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
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
walmarts paint section shouldnt be open at 3am
You kept making up "snapple facts" every time you opened a beer.
In case this wasn't clear when i said being his wingman was "hopeless", his date walked out on him when he poured a beer on his head trying to shotgun it
so i may have indirectly taught my 13 year old campers how to give blowjobs.
Now one day I will be able to tell my children how a drag queen in a gay bar told mommy that bin laden was dead
You told me to pour the Gatorade on you "like Flashdance"
He's reached the drunk point where he's trying to convince the family to buy falcons as pets. Can't wait to see how my steak turns out
I've decided I'm going to drink again. More. Day drinking. Night drinking. Everything. It's the responsible thing to do since I'm not pregnant
You know what would make this walk of shame even better? Picking up my cap n gown on the way to my car
I think my body is a cloud. This mixture of things is heavenly. Dare was wrong, drugs are awesome.
Is it socially acceptable to break up with someone over snapchat?
Whatever. I hate you. My vagina hates you. I hope a bird shits on your head today.
Amnesty Wednesday? I'm free to do dirty things to you and you can't laugh or judge?
Randomize
