I woke up this morning under my fitted sheet and my legs through the sleeves of my sweater.
four days late. damn you, makeup sex. you win again.
you know you were way too high when you wake up next to a handwritten list of all the things you'd do for a Klondike bar
I'm surrounded by too many unhungover people.
I mean, keeping the tube socks on AND taking cell phone pictures that he didn't ask for during sex? that's two strikes kiddo.
He broke into my apartment to check his Facebook again, the beer is all gone, and there's a new high score on pac man.
I experienced pure joy just moments ago when I looked down and saw that I had another pop tart to consume down my mouth hole.
Daquari drive throughs 24 hours a day. LORD HAVE MERCY
Why is my drynk life bleeding into my real life
I've used my house key more to do bumps of coke than I've used it to get in my house.
If by some world ending natural disaster I get into an actual relationship with this kid, should I tell him the truth about the web of lies I've based our current relationship on?
I lost my favorite bra in his hotel room. Is it bad that that's the only reason I hope he texts me tomorrow?
No I feel the same as usual. Mopey with a chance of bitch fits.
First walk of shame in 18 years. Divorce is going well.
I woke up wearing mittens dude
I woke up in my bathtub with the potted plant from downstairs.
checkmate.
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