sleeping like a two year old who chased ambien with a bottle of whiskey.
So Ive decided I have serious issues. Im walking around the school with a bag labeled booze money collecting from people while slightly hungover at 8:20 in the morning, and nobody is questioning me.
It's almost summer. We need to start reconnecting with our home drug dealers.
I just dropped off shoes at Mike's hotel. The chick he hooked up with last night stole his phone and shoes.
Your place is a magnet for either righteous parties or crippling alcohol dependency. Lets find out which together
I could really do without pictures of your asses in my inbox. That said, I'm extremely jealous that I wasn't involved.
We're like Siamese twins, but joined at the genitals.
I don't have patience to seek someone out and try to decipher whether or not I think I'd want to actually have their dick in my face.
Apparently I got mad at you for "Not drinking with me till we thought we were seahorses" and smashed my face on your door. Then I put my feet in the oven and started crying because I was drinking alcohol from a pot. My life is spinning out of control.
I ripped the door frame off last night too. Just remembered.
Life Lesson #1 of 2013: double-fisting shower beers and shaving my bikini line should be reserved for two different showers.
I just spent 20 minutes in a Subway trying to take a candid photo of the doppleganger of the guy I lost my virginity to instead of eating. That's all the evidence I need that my life is on track.
Should we go get some celebratory "I'm not pregnant" tacos?
I'm spring cleaning all of the fuck boys out of my life.
We're sitting on the kitchen floor drinking and talking about mounting real light sabers to the dog's head.
Randomize
