I can't remember if we talked about feelings. Fuck you Miller High Life.
I woke up and she had breakfast in bed for me
RUN RUN RUN RUN
The walk of shame is far, far worse on crutches.
I left when they started reinacting what appeared to be a jerry springer episode
I put labels all over the house on things I think are mine. A cactus, the dog, and a bottle of wine.
Succesfully slept on the roof at work for 3.5 hours without getting caught. I need a promotion
I asked if he wanted to come over and he said he was busy. Then I sent him a pic of me in the bath with the bottle of wine I already finished and all of a sudden he was free. Booty calls are too easy.
The trees feel like magic. Come fly to taco bell with me.
Wearing rip off pants to a booty call last night was one of my most brilliant ideas ever.
It's 3 am and I'm buying cat food and batteries for my vibrator. Good thing I shaved my legs for this.
This morning I woke up in the entrance of a retirement home. Memory fragments from last night: making it rain with the contents of my wallet over the bridge, getting hit by a car, and a lot of running.
I told him to come over when I realized that I did have time for a quick booty call before church.
the quiet that you are hearing is a silent suggestion that you should go fuck yourself
He sent me a flaccid dick pic from the bathroom at the bar and he said I'm sorry it's not all hard and good looking. Props to him - I did ask for a pic.
Turns out naked yoga wasn't a pickup line. I feel betrayed.
Randomize
