You kept asking who was the good cop and who was the bad cop, you said you only wanted to talk to the good one
I was told to ask you about memoirs of a geisha.
He's spent his last 3 years working at Urban Outfitters. No, I'm not sad I missed out on a life of mustaches, the dollar menu and shitty scarves.
found a rock and smashed the sliding glass door. home safe. screen door is locked so we're good.
His apology was sex and a subway sandwich. Strangely, I'm okay with that.
He ate me out in the forest at that park we used to hit my bong in highschool again, somehow this isn't what I pictured being 25 would be like
my last clear memory of the night was being offered a shot but having so much alcohol in my hands that someone literally had to pour it in my mouth for me. after that it pretty much skips to waking up face down and shirtless on my floor.
Buying her a drink is like giving a seagull a French fry, all you're gonna do is get annoyed and shit on
I made him fuck me with my coat zipped up and a unicorn mask on. That level of drunk sex. Weird and creepy yet highly satisfying.
At some point, you're going to have to talk to a tree and do what it says
me + whiskey = a bad person
I mean, you have to swipe right on someone you had sex with last week though, right?
I like to be the stable force in your otherwise chaotic existence.
You threw a beachball full of vodka at me and yelled I CHOOSE YOU then ran
I’m sorry, some of us common-folk don’t have access to steady dick
Randomize
