Today I realized that I've had whole drunk relationships with people. And sober me has and wants no part in it.
He plays me like an instrument...he is the Carlos Santana of my vagina.
id pay someone 5 dollars to tell me whos house im at right now. comfy couch though
he's washing the lighter in the sink and telling me to picture unicorns. requesting backup.
and I keep making him eat me out and buying me presents, this is paradise. I wish he cheated on me earlier.
I have a cut on my head from a tambourine.
As I am reading this. I'm standing in my underwear eating taquitos. I'm saying this in the most loving way possible: FUCK OFF.
We went to IKEA super baked wearing fake mustaches. You?
I'm pretty sure I did the Macarena with a gay guy while shot gunning a beer
He bought you footie pajamas. Shit's pretty serious.
I understand, but unless there is an intervention for me being planned, i DON NOT want to talk about my life choices
If I die here, tell my vagina and my cats that I'm sorry.
Can I just go naked and covered in glitter?
she threw up on her exam, awkwardly wiped it off with her sleeve and continued writing.
Just saw a car towing a guy on skis drive by so that’s how Syracuse is doing today.
Randomize
