Vomit. Vomit. Whatever. You wear a tiara in public.
using my metrocard to split lines. it says optimism on the back. i am optimistic that you will appear at my door and help me finish all these drugs.
So i think we're being coned into a threesome with the promise of pokemon
My birth control alarm gets more depressing every night.
It's official. I'm a squirter. Wasn't a one time thing.
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
She's in Spain. I'm in Holland. World Cup Final is Sunday.
Dude, it's like the Romeo and Juliet of FIFA.
Call 911 I'm faking my own death so this fat chick leaves my room
Actually considered writing down one of the numbers on the bathroom stall. That's how much I miss vagina.
You're gonna die alone anyway. Even if you do meet a man, they die earlier than women. Best case, you have to deal with grieving over his death and then die alone a couple years later. Worst case, you get a terminal illness and he divorces you, leaving you to die alone anyway.
Thanks, mom.
I have a gash on my leg an a lobster leg in my purse.
I didn't hate myself when I woke up today, that's improvement right?
Im just confused who has their mom break up with someone
Don't you hate falling asleep on the couch with a glass of wine in your hand? It's like dreaming about peeing and then realizing you've peed the bed only stickier.
HOW DID I LET MYSELF GET SUCKED IN HE HAS A PENIS FOR PETE'S SAKE.
Randomize
