one should ask oneself what kind of lifestyle one is leading when one finds a handprint of semen on their pillow the next day.
this is a mass text: i just made a grilled cheese with an iron and pasta with the coffeemaker in the hotel room. bow before your new god.
i got really high and listened to the spongebob squarepants theme song and, i swear to god, it was in german.
Seriously, let me lead the intervention, my parents did like three with me. I know how it works.
I seriously dont think i have ever ridden a horse sober.
I think you're asking the wrong person. You don't understand. Like I would fuck the act of fucking itself if I could.
i just had to use the keg as a stool to reach the margarita maker. i'm such a problem solver.
I just need to actually convince myself that drunkenly having sex won't help me forget the last time I drunkenly had sex, it only makes the situation worse.
There's never a time that i stay at this apartment that when i wake up in the morning and sit outside to smoke a cigarette that i don't feel ashamed of myself.
im the best fifth wheel. all four of them separately bribed me to never speak of what happened last night
And I just want you to know I got myself into this mess. I gotta get myself out. Plus, don't you only need one kidney?
He had a drawn-on fu manchu and now my vagina has one too.
Maybe he injected his testicle?
I can feel your judgement through the phone
He doesn't like Sabbath and that alone is a GIANT red flag. Learn from my experiences and never, I mean NEVER associate with people that hate Black Sabbath and Motörhead.
Randomize