i just rode the bull and i see vomit in my future.
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
theres no point in washing my sheets anymore. its always going to be a fine layer of booze and semen.
they duct taped my keg cup to my hand with my sister's phone number on it. I should be ok tonight.
so high i just made my own version of grilled cheese using toast and spray cheese
here comes the puke
I was informed last night that im not allowed to pick up the bouncers and carry them around anymore. Last sat is starting to make more sense
I feel like a fucking princess. Like an heiress of a kingdom of drugs.
I never appreciated sexting until I went to rehab
I would have done it. But then again I am a starving student who can manipulate my brain into thinking my decision was somehow morally justifiable.
Worst decision of artistic career thus far: bringing a banana to eat on male model day.
THIS IS NOT A DECISION I MADE AT ONE IN THE MORNING IM JUST GETTING AROUND TO TELLING YOU ABOUT IT NOW
I saw him and didn't have sex with him. Responsibility five!
Can we go one day without you telling me that your dick misses me
im glad im back to a point in my life where i have enough sex to sometimes be offered and be like naw im good.
Is it day drinking when the suns up like when does that start
asking for a friend
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