My number went up to seventeen today. I forgot to add my random hookup on a sailboat.
There are the 2 BIGGEST tools by me-- at our table. I hate them. But they're not ugly and I may make out with them later. And hate myself. Definitely hate myself.
At the miami airport. Don't know if it's all the tequila I drank in cozumel or the 5 year olds french accent but I might puke.
The stoners next door have their couch on the sidewalk again, shirtless, soaking their feet in a baby pool and listening to loud ukulele music. I want their life.
The best thing he's ever done for me was comment on my profile picture saying "hello boner"
I'm sorry, but the way we fuck, they don't make condoms strong enough not to break
Slept on the counter again. Mom covered me in an apron.
I don't care how drunk you were. Sending me a pic of your dick dressed as Uncle Sam with the caption "I want you" isn't an acceptable pick up line.
It's fine...I've done worse things to better people.
I'm drinking wine from the cap of my laundry detergent container, wearing my bed sheet as a cape. How do you think I'm taking it?
I've slept in a different bed every day this week. Operation Ho Ho Ho is a success!
Seriously, don't even. "Hi, have I seen you half naked covered in bright red body paint on the internet?" is NOT acceptable water-cooler chit-chat.
Aw.
Do not, I repeat, DO NOT uncuff him no matter how much he begs. He knows what he did.
Just got home from work. I'm going to change into sweats for a while before I have to wear normal pants to the party like I promised.
QUIT BEING A BITCH, DRINK SOME PEPTO, AND PUKE ON OUR FOES
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