i've lived in the woods for so long, as long as its post-op, i don't care.
im contemplating emailing my dad and telling him how worthless i am and how sorry i am that he pays for my life...aka my bar tabs.
I woke up to a gnawing sound in the middle of the night and asked him what it was. He told me it was the family of squirrels that lives in the wall and to go back to sleep.
He put up a Facebook album attempting to sell off their Harvard furniture. Items for sale include: his friend, a broken lamp, an item described as a 'carpet and/or sleeping bag', a pair of paint stained cargo pants, size 'Tyler', and a self proclaimed $3 bottle of wine, which he is offering for $2
do you know where my other puke covered boot is
You don't understand. If you watched a video of the shenanigans that occurred in my life over the past 48 hours you would gasp worse than the girl who witnessed me puking in my bag at the children's hospital
I. Did. In fact. Sprain. My liver. This. Weekend.
Are you wearing clothes?
Fuck no, who do you think I am
Got drunk and passed out flintstone vitamins to everyone at the bar. I'm just so god damn motherly
I hope. Last year I got lost in New Orleans and some guy named Cookie walked me home while I cried.
He may be 6' 6" but I'm 180 lbs of pure rage and determination
I'm armed with nothing but $4 lip gloss gum and my phone. Ready to take on the fucking world.
Im playing a game I have to take a drink every time my gram asks me the same question hammered by 4 guaranteed...
I think we have some hyper-understanding of each other when drunk, because looking back at our text convo from last night, they were literally just jumbled letters.
is it still the walk of shame if his dad gave me a 'thanks for sleeping with my son' head nod on my way out this morning?
Randomize
