Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
He looks like Spencer from the game Dreamphone
Some girl in the stall next to me just yelled "fuck yes i started my period!" she came out of the stall and we high fived. who am i to judge? i do that every month.
They just sang me a song about how small my dick is in front of the whole bar
I woke up because I was nodding to the dream question of "would you like a sombrero?"
i have my own cum on my nose right now. don't talk to me about "embarrassed".
It's very clear that i'm the girl sweating out four lokos at 2 in the afternoon at the gym
I've fallen from my one moral pedestal
He is nice. Kind of short though. But didn't try to rub his jean cock on me.
Which I appreciated.
You were discovered in a bush, smoking, and singing "in the jungle" to yourself. Which explains the scratches, but not the orange paint.
I've never had someone so bad at kissing. It was like he was trying to block my airway with his tongue and he succeeded...
I want to die, ON THAT, with that INSIDE ME. ironically, I sense that would be the only time I'd feel alive.
I'm eating animal crackers on my bed next to my vibrator writing about the hopelessness and depravity of humanity. I am LIVING.
Do not ever look at a picture of an erect ostrich penis. You will regret it.
The last thing I remember is trying to chug the rest of the everclear, running through a fence, and laying down in the snow. I hurt.
Randomize
