Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
Sooo sorry about that. And crying. And comparing my life to a duck
this whole healthcare thing got me thinking.. without knowing it my parents are now going to be paying for my dealer to be able to live..
Miserable. My projectile vomit just woke me up from a 5.5 hour nap.
he was so high that he wouldn't speak to anybody for like 30 minutes, he'd only gobble, like a turkey.
He violated my cat. I was not impressed.
I got a Luke Skywalker costume so I can go do battle with the homeless guy who plays the fiddle dressed as Darth Vader downtown.
Ok so in the last 18 months I have now driven four different dudes into counseling. I'm like heroin with a vagina.
There is a large scratch and bruise about the size of a pizza bagel next to my vagina. Please text back if you know what happened.
Dropping the entire last roll of TP into the toilet is a hurt you don't want to know.
I asked him to explain what he meant by "hooking up" in paragraph form
He called my boobs fluffy. Part sexy part pilsbury dough boy. Part sexy pilsbury dough boy. I'm so confused. And flattered?
I wouldn't know what to do. You never really mentally prepare for a cactus getting thrown at your face.
just turned another straight guy gay. Goddamn the church must hate me
Nothing says “I spent too much in Vegas” quite like eating a jar of pickles for dinner and planning on cream of celery soup for breakfast tomorrow.
Randomize
