I'm at subway, this 8 year old kid is judging my fashion sense with his dad. I want to kill myself.
It's ok, he's just 8, he's not judging you.
He just asked why I'm sitting alone. I honestly want to cry.
your stepbrother is rimming his martinis with coke... keeps saying "thank god its tuesday". where does funemployment end and intervention begin?
I'm tired of stuffing my fat into a slutty costume. Next year let's go as homeless girls. Cute ones. In leggings with camel toe.
Of course the bar would go completely silent right as I yell out "I don't have AIDS"
I just debated creating a mirror system so I could play Batman while in the bathroom. I think I need help.
I already knew that. But I also don't agree with stifling creativity.
The last thing I remember was you puking all over the inside of my door and him yelling "PUKING RALLY!!!"
wait no I wore my bra home that morning. I stole someone's bra last night?
him being a republican bothers me way more than his coke problem.
He was just lying on my lap in the backseat screaming how if the cops came he was a blanket.
If I pissed all over some chicks bed I would probably apologize for getting so wasted, not putting out, and turning into a god damn R. Kelly Cinderella... Not ask for coffee and a ride home.
Just got a Lifeproof case for Christmas so hold on and tell me how my shower nudes look
You just get me
I'm the wind beneath your wings, bitch
I just read my D.A.R.E. essay from 5th grade. I'm having mixed feelings about my previous life choices right now.
he asked me why I let you steal the gnome, and you jumped out of the bathroom, yelled "you know why!" and ran outside with said gnome
Drunk. Come get me. Out front blue shirt.
Where are you? And you borrowed my shirt. I know what you're wearing. How wasted are you?
Hotel
WHICH HOTEL??
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