At least I can take solace in the fact that with 8 billion some odd people in the world, at least one of them is shitting in their own car right now.
There's a hobo dancing by himself. Is anyone going to ask how he got in the house?
MRIs the morning after St. Patty's Day was a poor choice.
The pick up line I used was "Grab my sack, you'll be back." Then I winked at her.
Quite frankly, I consider the fact that I'm NOT pregnant one of my greatest achievements and I'd like to chronicle that ongoing success. I'm going to post pictures of me at "0 weeks" once a week.
UPDATE: lighting the grill with Bacardi. Haven't slept. Forgot the hamburger buns. Almost out of our eighth handle.
My living room is scattered with glow sticks wrappers, sparklers, face paint & beer cans?
It's not as cool looking when the drugs wear off, is it?
If I ever write a book, i'm calling it "why do i work with fucktards?"
It'll be a good sequel to my other book, "why do i sleep with fucktards?"
all law school has taught me so far is how to fart quietly during lectures and how to out-argue the ice cream guy when he screws me out of extra toppings.
It was fine until he came back to my place, grabbed a beer, HIGH-FIVED me, and left.
He drank his beer out of his own shoe. Its his "party trick"
I puked up my nose. THAT kind of night
Yep, that just happened. My mom just gave me a big bag of drugs for my birthday. She even put them in a fancy bag with tissue paper.
The album on my phone containing gross pictures to send when boys ask for nudes is now substantially larger than my normal photo album. Because I send one every night
I'm totally picking out my shrooming outfit and blankets right now
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