i was texting myself key events from last night so i could remember this morning. looked at my phone, texted my mother instead. our numbers differ by 1 digit
using my metrocard to split lines. it says optimism on the back. i am optimistic that you will appear at my door and help me finish all these drugs.
apparently he was unaware pussies come in unshaved form. curse you redtube and your unholy lies
repeat this after me. period at the beach is better than baby at the beach. breathe. and: period at the beach is better than baby at the beach.
If letting him bang me while i'm wearing reindeer antlers and a painted red nose isn't the christmas spirit, I dont know what is
I would compare it to a jeffrey but in smoothie form. More drugs in here than Bobby Brown's sock drawer.
It's basically the same plan, only step one gets revised to "look hot enough that he forgets I fucked his roommate"
lesson #1 of freshman year: grinding with a sombrero is difficult
"Grocery shopping" is really just a euphemism for spending $20 on enough frozen food to last 2 weeks and spending the rest of your viable paycheck on alcohol.
My most recent midlife crisis involved eating a doughnut in 30 seconds but taking 5 minutes to do half a shot of whiskey, then deciding I wasn't going to finish it.
I just want to be covered in whipped cream and spanked, is that too much to ask?
Where'd you go last night?
Don't EVER let me photobomb a group of lesbians again. They made me their "straight mascot" and I ended up singing Donna summer tunes for beers at their apartment complex.
There is not enough whiskey in the world to get me through what happened on Pretty Little Liars tonight.
First world problems.
I just want to drink bourbon and have sex and then eat like, a Christmas cookie.
Honestly my life is shambles over a married man who looked like a fuckin NERD ON HIS WEDDING DAY
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