Hey theres a creepy ass guy stalking our house.i would look alive geting in 2nite.
I'm drinking while I write this paper. When I can't see the screen anymore I'm gonna come out
i just woke up to seventeen texts from you saying all the things you would have done for a french fry.
No one actually likes Tequila. They just accept it as a fact of life. Like hpv.
Not only do I have sand in my ass, but a crab pinched me while we were fucking. Still totally worth it.
He's currently rapping every word to 'more money more problems' at what could be a over 30s gay bar. I'm not sure yet. More info to come.
I made him breakfast and we cuddled on the couch watching march of the penguins, which is, in case you were unaware, the opposite of fucking on a pool table
Bren left me with a lovely parting gift. Newfouund alcoholism. I'm on the kitchen floor, hugging a bottle of vodka. It's my only friend now.
If life deals in absolutes, the in betweens are the most hairy.... Fortune cookie wisdom from a stoned Megan.
Someone is in my phone as "fireball girl" and keeps texting me. How do I go about finding out who it is?
There is blood on the door to my room, I have to go to sleep
Dude. Where are you? I'm making waffles in the waffle iron. It's beautiful.
Had a turkey baster with clean pee in it in my pants to pass a drug test, and the bottom fell off, so yeah I'm pretty pissed.
Hold on... Are we having an intellectual conversation about porn?
Yup
I love us.
We left Waffle House and he took off running five miles down the road saying we were "training for the Olympics." And I mean, I couldn't leave him out there like that...
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