I was so drunk last night that I went into my 15 year old sisters room to have her peer edit the drunk texts I was sending to my ex.
i get tired of guys telling me there married or they have a girlfriend. they act like it concerns or matters to me
I can actually hear my brain cells scream as they die when she speaks.
I'm trying to decide if I want to bring home my 'beer champion' trophy or my chem books.
I'm tempted to see how fat I can get before he leaves me. It's obvious we're playing a game of chicken here.
I feel like somehow my uterus ended up in my ribcage from all the keg stands i did last night..
Also you know what's worse than drunk texting? Drunk leaving soup on your hot neighbor's porch.
They're putting plan B in vending machines now. My life just got so much easier.
You tried tipping the cashier at Cook Out by shoving a dollar bill down his shirt and yelling "Magic Mike"
Talk about an dramatic entrance, girl rolled up on a stolen bike and was wearing heels and a dress, through it on the ground and said "you guys want a bike?" Of course i jumped on that shit, any sane person would!
You asked me what the point was. Told me your were dying alone and then had me take you and Wendy's where you bought 3 meals and ate them in about 10 minutes saying you didn't care if you got fat...
Things are coming back to me in chunks. I vaguely remember signing a shirt that said 'I enjoy vagina'
I AM SO PROUD OF YOU
He ordered a meatball sub with a side of meatballs.
He said he's in to distance fucking. I thought he just mean long durations. We fucked on a towel all the way down his tile hallway accross his kitchen and into the living room
I'm about to make existential crisis tacos.
Randomize
