I hope you had to get up out of bed and walk across your room to check this text message
Remind me to tell you the Scottish bar story tomorrow
Remind me to tell you it was a shitty story when you're done telling it tomorrow
So... My dad just saw the Plan B package and the beer cans in my backseat.
Oh its cool I'm sure he already knows you're a whore and an alcoholic.
there is a school bus full of santas parked in front of the liquor store
He keeps asking me for girl advice, i told him im an expert at getting drunk, not girls
NEVERCLEAR, NEVER AGAIN.
Your penis has nothing to do with my throat infection, sorry...
Everything gets a little fuzzy after the flats of jello shots, but I do have a vague recollection of being at the top of a large human pyramid
I gave him head while he watched NASCAR. My future flashed before my eyes.
My garbage can has nothing in it besides condoms and candy wrappers. That's good garbage.
I'm still in my ugly sweater and underwear drinking coffee next to a plate of assorted treats we stole from the party. I got a new sweater by the way, its shoulderpad-y and looks like a news anchor got thrown up on by Liberace. I'm pretty proud.
I actually had to tell him that sex doesn't replace my Tupperware. Our relationship has reached a weird level.
I'll pass on that plan. The lack of my penis in new vaginas is no where on the itinerary.
Sorry I punched you in the throat. You got in my way. You understand.
I feel like people expect me to always be a sarcastic, shade throwing drunk. And you know me, I hate to disappoint.
Randomize
