My dad just sent me a text telling me to "say hi to all the luscious bitches" at the gay bar. Guess this explains my childhood
Throwing up while listening to pandora radio. Don't tell me my life doesn't have theme music.
And then I interrupted the father of the groom, to ask if she was "ballet or pole" in the middle of his story about his niece, the dancer.
explaining to a nurse how i all most cut my finger off playing beer pong, she def just hand me a AA booklet.
I shouldn't be home alone with this much peanut butter and the dog. I feel like i'm being recorded to see when my desperation will peak.
There are rocks in my bed. And dirt all over my face. Explain?
Look at you go. You're like the Slutty Librarian that Could. They should write children's books about you. Children's books for adults.
So I've been thinking about this, and I've decided my bed is magic. Every time I change the sheets, a new boy is in my bed. I own the Sheets of Dreams-if I change them, they will come.
It's like he drunk calls 6 times for me to come over, but can't say hello at lunch.
I walked into the living room this morning and he was there with 3 shots in a row. He said it was "tea time."
was his pinky out?
I woke up at 6 and was laying at the top of my stairs.
They cut me off when I tried to pee in the corner of the bar.
He said we had an hour long conversation about how awesome I was.
Some mornings I close deals. Other mornings I puke out my window while I’m driving down the highway
God help them if any millennials are in the vicinity. Rent is too high and we no longer fear death
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