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.
He just went up to bed, still drunk from last night, carrying a pear, a pipe, and an unopened bottle of wine. I think he'll be fine.
Hey so summary of last night. I threw up in a rain boot then tipped it over on my bed, did my laundry and passed the fuck out. I feel like I didn't see you.
He confessed to putting dry erase marker dots on my vibrator to keep track of when I "electronically cheated" and then passed out.
I thought of you while cleaning the forehead prints off my glass doors.
Not going outside. I may melt into a puddle of wine
You don't take my phone while I'm passed out, have a three hour conversation on it with Dealer Dave, set up a date with him and NOT TELL HIM THAT HE'S NOT TALKING TO ME.
It was weird, because he kept shaking his head like he was motorboating me...but on my vagina.
Not saying puking on the side of a cab was how I imagined freshman year of med school but...
whose parrot is this?
What do you take me for? I'm not trying to lure you into bed with stories of my dead aunt.
Stuck in the Minneapolis airport for 3 hours with an expense budget and a wine bar. This could get out of hand quickly.
Okay first of all, that is a sick ass nickname please call me that forever. Second, i need your help.
Everyone I slept with in 2016 is getting a Christmas card from me. Because I'm an adult.
We need to step in, this can't continue. The guy she went home with last night looked exactly like Count Olaf, right down to the unibrow.
Which version tho, Jim Carrey or Neil Patrick Harris?
THAT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER, YOU DON'T FUCK COUNT OLAF!!!
Randomize
