there's paper in my vomit.
drugs are my only escape from this reality. good thing I got it at a discount price last night
Legitimately semi-blackout across the table from the governor off a chardonnay i can't even pronounce.
I feel the need to point out that one of the items on my to-do list for the day is "don't throw up" I have no concept of normal
as she was beating the hell out of his ex, she screamed prison rules, and smashed her head with a beer bottle. I'm oddly afraid yet so attracted to her now.
I had to stop mid sex to take my turn on words with friends so he wouldn't get suspicious. Hookup of the night helped me. We won.
I have a pocket in my purse that is just for condoms and cocktail swords. I feel like that speaks volumes about me as a person
I'm trying to figure if this dude sitting in his car with the door open is dead or just sleeping. Someone was probably wondering the same thing bout me 20 minutes ago. Your meeting is taking a ridiculous amount of time.
To my ex and my favorite mistake: I totally enjoyed hearing you have erectile disfunction via baby monitor!
If you can count on one hand the number of times you have actually, truly nearly died this month, then you are not really living yet.
He gave me a beer, petted my head, and called me kiddo.
I'm out of milk so I'm dunking my Oreos in Bailey's; this is my life now.
I'm going to need you to stop harassing my professor on Twitter when you're drunk.
So chicken strips and confidence do not you make you sober.
Security showed up because apparently we were fucking too loud.
As your roommate I can attest that y'all do indeed fuck rather loudly
Randomize
