My drug dealer just made me a sandwich at the local deli. Starting to question his street cred.
Its so hard looking at my mom and pretending I'm not dying a slow death of binge drinking
i like being sick. whatever the doctor gave me is awesone. the walls are waving at me. i never want to get better.
My mouth holds just enough water for my bong
I can't believe I paid your booty call for a ride home in cake.
Drinking down Plan B with a 5 hour energy. Winding down welcome week in style.
Admittedly shitfaced... I have two questions. 1)why is the fan in my bathroom on? (Sub-text: is there a ghost?). 2) is your underwear really argyle?
The point remains that this is the setup for some great stories
Or terrible, horrifying, traumatic experiences
great clearly means different things to us
Well, our assistant supervisor caught us on the back stairs...he invited us on a double date with his fiance and him. I guess our job approves of the relationship?
i actually texted him "nice to see you" but then there was a saved draft "i think about you when i get off." dodged that bullet...
Jesus Christ. If I were a normal sex-having person, I'd think I was knocked up. I'm cycling through emotions like I'm in a decathlon to crazy.
I just saw two homeless guys bond over the fact that they both use Crown Royal bags as wallets in Burger King.
If my mom's not going to offer me drugs then it's really pointless for me to be here.
I wouldn't hate if he could handle a sex only type of ship. I really don't want to use the word "relation" in front of that.
The amount of dicks I have seen in the last hour is more than I have seen in my whole life.
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