Let's get back to talking about you giving me a blow job.
Woke up this morning on my couch at 6am fully dressed including heels, holding half a corn dog. I called you last night when I was buying the corn dog from a street vendor, I think.
I am in love with you.
I don't think going to Relay for Life and painting our faces while everyone stares at us is a sufficent late night after the bars.
Do you remember calling me a cuntasaurus rex last night?
we drunkly made out in the middle of the street beside the homeless guy playing the flute. Not how I imagined our first kiss.
Tonight was the second time that I've pretended like English was my 2nd language to avoid conversation w a creeper.
We drove around last night shotting fireworks out the window while they had sex in the back of his car
dude he passed out in the strip club on his birthday, WHILE he was getting a lap dance. That drunk.
He's gotta be able to drive a truck, make me mac n cheese and give me the best orgasms. That's my perfect man
I'm almost positive that you shat in a birdhouse
I found a playlist on my ipod with only one song on it: gold digger. confused, but not surprised.
I found us a new booze connection and I'm writing college admissions essays. The future is bright.
Baruch atah adonai DAT ASS DOE
rest in peace liver.
It was nice having you occupy space in my body that could be holding beer n chicken.
that's going in my livers obituary.
the police dropped me off. that's how my night went.
Randomize
