I woke up on the steps beside a plate of spaghetti and a toilet paper roll ripped in half. And i actually think this day is gonna get better.
Their flight hasn't even left yet and the 'buy food to keep yourself alive' budget is gone on tequila.
my debit card account is gonna say movie, movie, ice cream, movie, cheese fries, get a fucking life, movie
I don't even want to talk about it, I'm traumatized. Even the dog knew to take advantage of the most intoxicated girl at the party...
They let me out of the holding cell just in time for me to get the morning-after-pill. Rock bottom feels even worse with all those hormones.
No, my body just knows its the weekend and wants to rage. Very different from alcoholism
I just had a brazillian performed by a hungarian named olga. Im pretty sure she was trying to rip out my soul. You owe me a million orgasms
While looking for an apartment, I've realized that the way I rate balconies is on the "how easy would it be to smoke weed here" scale.
What other scale is there?
I'm having flashbacks from last night. Did I admit to pausing Whitney's funeral because I was watching porn? I believe I did.
Irrelevant. Does he have queso? That's the real question.
You should kill a bro for me and drag his carcass home so I can study him.
It's cosmic balancing. My vagina is an instrument of karmic retribution.
$1 drinks and Playboy theme. I am never leaving this place
Long story short if you're going to get drunk on a sailboat at night leave your phone in the car.
I'm touching everything in your apartment with my penis.
Randomize
