i woke up this morning in my bathroom,naked, with my boxers around my face and puke and shit on the floor and wondering why i didn't have a toenail on my one big toe.
compared to you, a hobo is quite responsible.
And this is weird.. I feel slightly less depressed after shitting myself.
So I came home baked last night and made about 60% of my jeans into jorts...
please don't text me until you can spell three letter words again.
I'm not holding out much hope. She met me in a nighclub when I was arguing with the cigarette machine
He was dressed in a pink dressing gown feeding people ketamine from a plastic sword he called Excalibur. how was your Monday?
I also turned off the Anchorman DVD start menu before cause I didn't want Will Ferrel watching me lose my virginity.
You asked me what the point was. Told me your were dying alone and then had me take you and Wendy's where you bought 3 meals and ate them in about 10 minutes saying you didn't care if you got fat...
Immediately after sex he layed on the floor and acted like my yellow bra was pac man
We could never date. He doesn't drink and he won't bring me tacos after sex. He's on that healthy life bullshit.
Scientific fact: if he makes a face like a demonic dog when he's fucking you, makes it easier to fuck without feelings.
He just peed in the cab. I repeat..IN.
Aww his grandma died? That's sad! No mourning sex!!! That doesn't lead to good things!
I'm gonna have to start putting baby wipes and a change of pants in my bag. The amount of times I'm scared of shitting my pants in public is too high and I need the reassurance
reminiscing on last night: why the fuck did I feel the need to stand on chairs everytime we took a jello shot?
Randomize
