I stood up and a chip flew out of my shirt and landed in the chip dish. I just walked away.
Girl in my class with fire painted on her face. I. need. that. weed.
Ended the weekend putting away 30 nuggets. Training for 100.
THE BIG GAY MAD HATTER IS HERE AND HE HAS DRUGS IN HIS PANTS FOR YOU. COME DOWNSTAIRS BITCHEZZZZ
They switched jackets and you didn't notice. You made out with both of them and had no idea
My dating life has become some fucked up hydra of dicks; you cut one off and two pop up in its place.
She's cool and all but if she eats my food again I'm gonna fucking drop kick her ass. No one touches my lunchables. NO ONE.
I lost my bra at his grandma's house so there's that.
What if for Halloween I paint my self gold and make sandwiches for everyone? I'd be a trophy wife! Get it?
To be honest. I have two poptarts in my jacket pockets. No one knows. I am pro stealth.
These last few days with George, grandma, and now Carrie all dying have been pushing me further and further into rum's sweet embrace.
I'm not wearing pants, but I'm wearing a tiara.
Idk, but the girl in his story had really nice eyebrows and was singing The Climb. How about you CLIMB the fuck away from my man
FORGET THE EYEBROWS
Fun fact: deep throating plus dehydration plus eating a lot of citrus = my throat is fucked. Metaphorically and physically.
R.I.P my virginity. TOD 12:37pm
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