I don't know how to tell my mom that I'm not sober enough to drive to the dentist...
I hate the Packers so much, I wouldn't cheer for them if they were playing al Qaeda.
Something about getting head on stairs. I don't know.
Well, love is in the air. And by that I mean: it seriously smells like sex in here.
I standby a snuggie being perfectly acceptable attire for drunkenly walking your dog at 5am. Our new neighbors did not seem to agree.
I know. It's cray. Crayon. Crayolaaaaa.
The problem is drunk me is completely unaware how poor I am
I would of joined had I not blacked out last night and ran around naked breaking things till 4 am
I found pix on her phone of me passed out and her sticking things up my ass. Its over.
I may be going to Mexico. I just met a drug dealer at a strip club. Seems legit.
He told me he needed "space" but then goes and likes my insta of panacakes.. Done.
I just saw a kid on iowa campus story that looked like the guy i made out with on spring break.
I can't believe I got dumped for a fat chick, but at least I got four and a half years worth of free shit. So we can call it even.
I'm sure as hell not getting hoodwinked into going back to rehab again
I'm dying of laughter, but I'm also just dying
Send help
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