I have decided that a Nickelback cover band would be the pinnacle of loserdom.
So Ive decided I have serious issues. Im walking around the school with a bag labeled booze money collecting from people while slightly hungover at 8:20 in the morning, and nobody is questioning me.
He asked what my name was on facebook chat. IT SAYS RIGHT THERE. i will never be drunk enough for this guy.
Just took my pill on time for two days in a row. I deserve a prize.
Not having phil's child is good enough.
Just pooped at the strip club. NOT NORMAL . I may be a little too comfortable here.
The girl beside me at the laundromat is bitching a guy out on the phone for jizzing on her bedspread. She had to use a triple machine to wash it.
You were outside the bathroom the gay guy was puking in, screaming "IT GETS BETTER!" over and over again. Good message, poor execution.
It's that time of the week again where I begin to ponder life's great questions like, "What will my pathetic excuse for a future look like?" and "Why tacos?"
It's 1pm, she's in the shower, I don't have the guts tell her I wasn't her blind date. Someone got stood up.
I was just thinking about if my bath water turned to jello and got a little freaked out
Like I'm not tryna become president or marry a doctor or some shit here, like one level above garbage is all I'm asking for
HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP YOUR SECRETS IF YOU KEEP ON TELLING ME THEM.
I'm not a morning person, and, trust me, no matter how good your cock may be, it will not turn me into one.
random boy in my bed. last night wasnt a dream. fuck.
This is very awkward but where is my dildo, Mom
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