Marg and I just meaowed the nat anthem. I was tenor.
'm tripping baaaaaaaaaaaaaaas
Do you have a shampoo for semen
Or a time machine
I'm trapped in whichever ring of hell is populated by inbred yokels and type 2 diabetes.
Sitting next to a retarded hot married man on the plane, I got 6.5 hrs to homewreck this shit.
When I find myself drinking from a boot I just go with it and refuse to ask why.
Accidentally peeing a little on the couch in the middle of a sneeze is way different from railing a random on our waffle counter. I am the better roommate.
Psh a bachelors degree is the new adulthood. We're all just pretending anyways. I'm sitting on my boyfriends couch while he's passed out drunk. In my lap. On a Wednesday. And he's a nurse. See, pretending to be an adult
I've reached the point in my life where I desire cats more than men
Nothing like an alcohol-fueled, 6-hour-long hunt for weed--complete with occasional breaks for sex.
There's a cop, a pizza guy and a half naked girl outside along with a dog that I don't know. It feels like I walked into a Judd Apatow movie.
Indeed. If boner pill commercials have taught us anything, it's the importance of waiting until the moment is right.
Where else would I get life advice?
I just want to braid flowers into his hair and steal all of his pills.
I've spent my afternoon dipping strawberries in DayQuil if that's any indication of where I'm at in life.
Welp... sober this am and I still have a parrot.
But then our conversations are like black box recordings. Just the stuff you hear when the plane is going down
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