I'm at subway, this 8 year old kid is judging my fashion sense with his dad. I want to kill myself.
It's ok, he's just 8, he's not judging you.
He just asked why I'm sitting alone. I honestly want to cry.
I discovered the grieving process is shock, denial, anger...and then something about drinking until you puke on yourself
can we please take bets on how much therapy you'll need in the future?
because you can't take the autistic girl you're babysitting on a blunt ride.
Made a visit to my old puking stall. I missed it.
i was able to set 4 alarms to make sure i woke up in time for class but i couldnt take the open beer out of my pocket before i did cartwheels down the hall...
2 rounds of irish car bombs have already been taken to your 5 year sober anniversary
Nothing with ever convince me that she wasnt purposely left behind by our mother to ruin my life and fuck our family
Beer, water, beer, water, beer beer beer beer beer beer beer beer beer beer beer beer so much beer
In the store looking for it now. They put the theatre/script section right next to the gay erotica section. Rude. Practical, but rude.
Explain why there's a meatball in my bong
I'm wine drunk & this is not good news for anybody
We have angered the beer gods. It feels like I'm shitting angry cats.
I'm still trying to figure out who shit on the coffee table. I have confirmed beyond a reasonable doubt that it wasn't me.
....I just did my boss
I love you. And I will hold your hand as we skip on the road to hell.
Randomize
