I told her at least we still had each other. That's when she started crying.
My parents showed me my IQ test from fourth grade, I'm shitting on my potential.
He probably smells like baby powder and sexual identity crisis.
I'm so covered in bruises. God dammit drunk me. We are a lady.
Just rented the SCUBA equipment. Meet me at the pool to test the underwater beer bong idea.
I sat on the ground outside wawa chain smoking and telling two strangers about my sex life. I also accepted Rick James Bitch and Celine Dion as their names.
How was that my fault?! I made you breakfast and gave you cake, as you asked. Then, you initiated sexual activity.
So I'm about to drive his drunk ass home and he spits on my car. Before I can say, "Dude, what the fuck?!", he puts his finger to my lips and goes "shhh, its in the past."
I don't fucking know. I'm out stimulating the economy. Not locked in a room with a marker board.
Oh at the liquor store again?
I saved him in my phone as "Well-Hung Burrito Savior." I love Taco Tuesday.
You just gave me the title for the series of our lives. Haha. Chapter 12: the cocaine on the back of the hairbrush
UPDATE: IM NOT A TEEN MOM LETS GO PARTY
10/10 would definitely still fuck you dressed as squirrel
like, by the end of my shift people were asking if I'd sobered up enough to take a drink order yet. that bad.
I got a lap dance last night from a girl while I was wearing a Captian America onsie. My life does not suck.
Randomize