we sang an acapella version of barbara ann to his voicemail...i'm not drinking again until tuesday.
HOLD UP I think she only has eight fingers...
i'm sorry if your life is a sore subject
i forgot i changed ur name in my phone to "the situation" so when u texted me i got really excited for a hot second
i thought we decided on me being "the altercation" instead
then we talked for a little and he asked my last name which since I have yet to get a fb request I'm 95% sure its for a restraining order
Its like every time I go out with you, it always involves Serbian chicks and taco bell and you always manage to get both all over my bed.
We left your bucket of puke on your doorstep to clean out yourself. You're welcome.
this is not real life
it never is. after midnight never counts.
Guess who won a bet and gets to name it Optimus prime if it's a boy
Nevermind. Totally worth it.
I have a callous on the palm of my hand just below my ring finger that is entirely from opening so many beer bottles. I'm strangely proud right now.
Tell me when you get here. I'm drinking beer in the bushes next to your house, and I put my hoodie up because I was cold. Pretty sure everyone lowkey thinks i'm homeless.
At the end of the night i was really thirsty and tied to a bedpost
Your normalization of crazy is frightening.
My idiot ex texted me on Valentine's day to tell me I was right, he did need a therapist.
It's the Ides of March, motherfucker. That means we're supposed to daydrink, right?
Randomize
