theres bread in your mailbox im going to eat it
nevermind its newpaper
I kept calling his name while we were having sex cuz i was so proud that i remembered it.
I used to practice getting hit by cars.
You should've stopped drinking when you started asking people for bites of tequila.
Ive been home for 20 minutes and I'm already in bed with a vodka tonic
i swear, about 40% of my drunken life is spent having sex with him.
Also, my phone autocorrects ENABLER to all caps. I think I drunk text the word too often.
Home. Barefoot. Drunk. Crying. Puked. Brushed teeth. Washed face. Dying. Need Cuddle.
That last minute feeling of hesitation on whether I should bring my health card to the bar usually means I'm in for a good night.
Because if not I was going to quote Ryan Lochte as punishment
Thank god I got my shit together
Damn you. I'm in a bar with Southern Jesus Fearing Blah Blah Rednecks WHO ARE PROBABLY VOTING FOR TRUMP and you go radio silent.
He started yelling terms of endearment at a cheese sandwich. Then he tried to hump it.
I found out he hated a girl that I hate so I fucked him. My reasons for fucking guys are getting bad.
And you seriously thought you could just walk in naked with a bow tied around your penis?
It seemed like a good idea at the time...
he sent me a picture of him holding out his pinky so we could pinky promise. i have to fuck him now
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