Drunk in my hotel room, eating taco bell, and crying at Nicki Minaj's life story.
This is why I keep you in my life.
She woke up next me in bed and told me to stop driving so fast.
I despise everything about her. Except her tits.
I keep worrying the police are going to come looking for us.
For which one? Starting a fire on my porch or having sex on my porch?
like, there should be nothing wrong with me wanting to watch you put on a bikini and roll around in a kiddie pool of jello
I think I broke my toilet with my head. There are ceramic pieces everywhere. and I might still be drunk.
Like seriously how stupid drunk do you have to get befor you start finding dolphin lighters and shit in your undergarments
She acted like falling "up" the stairs was a fucking physics phenomenon. I call that Tuesday nights.
Do you want to get naked and order pizza with me
I think the God that I only kind of believe in, definitely hates me.
Oh god theyre drunkenly throwing knifes now, definitely the best movie I've worked on
Failing this, see a doctor for elephant tranquillisers, to be taken with whiskey orally, twice at dawn.
Validation I posted a good pic? The lonely fuckboys send out the booty call signal. Of course I answered the call; Gotham needs its hero.
I keep track of what day of the week it is by my recent destinations on my nav system. \nRight now it's: booty call, bar, booty call, brunch, bar, church so that must mean we are getting close to Sunday when we start the rotation all over again.