You text me last night that you invented a new food. Cheese-less grilled cheese. Congrats, you made toast.
I'm still reeling over the fact that you beat us all at Risk while you were flat on your ass drunk and falling asleep on South America.
I have a great idea. you just need to get pregnant.
Mother, no, i will not talk about this again. Please stop planning my unborn daughters life. I will not put her in pagents. That is trashy. Stop watching toddlers in tiaras. It is also trashy. I love you.
Is it bad that I was more upset about not getting the perfume he told me he had bought for me then the actual breakup?
It's like alcoholism for beginners at my kitchen table.
I cant. There's fences everywhere and I think I have a boyfriend. Its fabulous.
I woke up and he used my makeup to write "hope you don't get pregnant" on my mirror before he left
I told him to just roll me a blunt and put it in a heart shaped box.
He's gonna be so upset when he get's a real job and can't do serious drugs.
My throw up tasted like pumpkin, fall is right around the corner.
I spilled a whole plate of queso and salsa on my bed so I'm just eating it off my sheets with chips. How's your night going?
Things that happen while I poop: I start dating someone
He called me dainty, then fucked me like the Viking God he is.
Get your ass back to America. We've got a lot of drugs to do.
gave out my moms phone number instead of mine last night... thattttttttttttttt dunk.
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