So I just had this crazy idea, and no it has nothing to do with the fact that they made me take shots at work.
# days @ Coachella: 1 people i showed how to break it down: 279
Apparently everytime he put me down to bed I escaped out the window, I faintly recall climbing into the canoe in the back yard, and air paddling.
Just found a "how to get laid" book on the dresser and am now a victim of method number 16 corollary 7.
His idea of romance is drunkenly leaving me dead dandelions on my car in the middle of the night
You know when you can feel the alcohol in your toes? That's a great feeling.
nothing like a walk of shame in front of a cnn news crew to start the morning off right
No. I'm just saying it shows no signs of stopping. My dad was a man-whore well into his 50s.
My hair is short now so it will be easier to give you alot more blow jobs
I'm going to take this text and frame it on my mantle
I walked around with red solo cups on my feet, weeds tied around my neck and a tree in my hand
I'm a complete klutz, especially when I get excited. I pee a lot too. I'm like a puppy except I don't pee in the floor.
Munching saltines, sippin Gatorade, and trying not to get eaten by this small horse
I feel like I missed the land of milk and honey and instead wound up in the land of beer and pizza. And yet, I think I'm happier here.
His dog ate the vibrator. The WHOLE vibrator. We spend the morning after trying to make it vomit up the battery. Why does this always happen to me?
How do you explain to your parents that you can't go to the library because you got banned for being drunk in there... on a Sunday afternoon?
That's $100,000 of quality education right there.
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