Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
All I wanted to tell you is that I fucked a guy covered in fake blood, who circumcised himself.
He must be back home now. He moved his box of beer from her porch to ours.
I still don't understand how I went from crying to blowing you in like two minutes.
Our brains have an emergency blowjob override switch. You saw proof tonight.
Other than a hickey from some random Canadian roller derby girl, I came out unscathed
I'm laying in bed with a case of beer,.. That's how this break up is going..
I'm laying in bed listening to Purple Rain on repeat. If you wanna bone, come up, but if not, at least Prince understands me.
There was a time I was reining queen of Sunday funday... And at that same time I also weighed 20 pounds more, had the morale of a spearmint rhino stripper, and woke up most mornings asking more questions than fucking Barbara Walters. I think I just wrote my own epitaph.
Why did you just send me a picture of your dinner?
CAUSE LOOK HOW MUCH SPAGHETTI I'M EATING
Also I've come to learn that "type" and "fetish" are different things. Apologies for earlier confusion.
Split a bottle of Johnny Walker and then decided to eat a shit ton of peanut butter. That was a rough bed to wake up in
You danced?!
I just jiggle to the beat like a sexy lava lamp
just yelled CURVEBALL at my nightie because it turned out to be a pair of shorts
Our livers are going to hate us.
It's okay, they're regenerative. God wanted this.
Randomize
