I don't think I can get bothered with getting laid tonight
my dad came in to wish me a happy birthday and found me passed out in my underwear with the lights on and a plate of meat on the bed. i bet he was proud to have contributed to my creation in that moment.
So high. I just took a picture of my chewed gum so I can remember to paint a picture of it as a cloud later.
Home safe. Psyche shattered. Still rolling. In love with the morrocan rug in the living room.
couldn't find my pants so i stole a pair of shorts from the passed out kid in the corner.
Theres a handprint of sauce on my frig, one streaked across my face, a trail of it to my bedroom and sauce all in my bed and i have no idea what the fuck i ate.
Im drunk on a hayride surrounded by toddlers. they are judging me.
I swear that when we jog in the morning I can hear it slap between his thighs
new costume idea. paint swatches and a ball gag... I'll be 50 shades of grey.
You are like the only girl I know who tells their booty call to go find another girl just cause you want more sleep.
"Douchebag of the Year" award goes to the guy who didn't reply to the picture of my tits.
I just accepted my offer to work as a camp counselor over the phone between shots of Fireball. This is going well for me so far.
I just had to go dumpster diving, at 3am, in the rain, because I realized that I somehow threw away the brand new package of birth control pills I picked up from the pharmacy this afternoon. So I'm sort of a responsible adult.
The bar brought brought it upon themselves, they played billy joels piano man before closing, it's not our fault the bar isn't a bar anymore, right?
she referred to her cum as “pussy butter” so needless to say we had a good night
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