So I have $4.22 in my bank account, just wrote a check for a tooth brush from quikmart, and bought a 25 cent condom from the bathroom. i don't know whats more sad, my bank account or the fact that i'm entrusting my entire future to a condom machine that was probably last filled in 1970
I'm on a mission to free the leash kids. Like liberating the Israelites from Egypt. Only better.
get home. someone threw up in the fishtank last night.
Reggie can tackle my bush.
And to think..we used to do everything sober...
As punishment for throwing up on my car, I am holding your phone hostage until the morning. You can read this message after I drop it off.
I woke up with like grass burns all over my body, i'm pretty sure i made out with someone under a bus. . . but i'm not sure
just used my sex toy cleaning solution to clean my reading glasses. midterms are cramping my styleeee
I deleted his number so I had to go into my old voicemails which are saved through my gmail and search his name... Never underestimate the resourcefulness of a drunk girl on a mission for dick
I will take a blow job from a dude that kinda looks like a girl at this point
think of it as grooming, as if he is my Kate Middleton and I'm grooming him to be a presentable princess
in that moment our bushes were one. and in that moment we were pure.
So, in keeping with the last two years, are we going to watch the new Hobbit movie on acid again? It's kinda starting to feel like a Christmas tradition.
While he was at a job interview yesterday, I was dropping acid. So that's the aesthetic of our relationship rn.
I think I deserve an award for the breakup text I sent him. Like a pulitzer prize or a donut or something.
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