I'm tuning in to watch Heidi Montag crash and burn on the Miss Universe Pageant. Somebody call 911. and I'm not talking about the Sean Kingston song.
HER PREGGO ASS BROUGHT SPEGHETTI-O'S... IN HER PURSE.
I drank almost a whole fifth last night. Woke up with blood everywhere wearing a "stereotype this" tshirt. How fitting
I feel like if you stuck me in a room with all my old toys it'd be the best high ever.
We have a hundred jello shots. Lines will be crossed.
He told me about how he pissed his pants last weekend like it was a normal part of conversation. Within 10 minutes I was going home with him. I think he put me under some kind of spell.
I know. I feel like I should be doing mature responsible adult things though. Like getting loans, working 60 hours every week and not eating burritos in bed, ya know?
It started with a wedding, followed by a drag show, and ended with Trevor getting punched in the face by the bouncer. How was your weekend?
Is it possible to break your brain with drugs?
Now I don't feel like I'm sweating cheeseburger all the time.
I hurt myself, but I'm pretty sure I saved the carpet.
I just watched my high school guidance counselor pee in the backyard of this party.
Annoying and petty is the name of the game and I'm the MVP.
When he identified himself as captain clitoris i knew my night was fucked.
I told him I thought I was pregnant and he told me he accidentally killed my bird.
Circle of life.
Randomize
