god I wish I could record you sometimes, you're so neurotic
Sorry I totally forgot to text you back. When you texted me I was at work at the pharmacy and it was stupid busy. And then of course I had my 8 hour "shoot me b/c half of Loyola comes in to buy plan B" shift.
Dipping chips in queso and thinking of your beautiful face
Here's an idea...how about I take shots by myself and drunk dial you around noon?
She's yelling about threesomes and realllly wants you to come over. Put the pieces together.
Stripper pole. Sore legs. More vaca money.
He wore my sunglasses on his honeymoon..... so there's that.
Best part of being a cop: When I showed up at Thanksgiving with stitches in my head I could tell them I was "protecting and serving" not "drinking and falling down". Career validated.
Someone painted a weed leaf on my leg with red paint. Or blood. I hope paint.
Holy fuck just found a used tampon in the leg of my pants. it's not paint. It's. Not. Paint.
I hate being near you and not being able to do what I want. It's like a recovering alcoholic tending bar. I feel like Sam Malone. Except I can't bang the cute chick I work with.
For the record, it's NEVER ok to discuss my stripper-related injuries with my fiance.
I just threw up all of my lunch in the Barnes & Nobles parking lot. Rockbottom tastes like a veggie burger, in case you were wondering.
And I might have stolen a bag of Doritos out of Matt's car and hid them in my bag and gave individual chips out to people dancing, trying to convince people they were mini tacos.. Like why Am I allowed to be an adult
Nothing. Its like my body doesn't know how to function on a Saturday when its not hungover and/or still drunk.
you know you should be lucky to find the case to my dildo....that means no more random guys at the house!
Randomize
