I'm single ladies-ing it in my kitchen alone. after I just made an intense new breakup cd and before I drown my sorrows by marinating alone in my jacuzzi later. I cant tell if this is a new low or a new high
i'm pretty sure the devil's penis is california-shaped
i hope chris hansen doesn't have a boat
Somewhere in this world my second husband is in 9th grade.
I only knew it was midnight because i got happy new years texts while i puked outside
I'm walking down the halls of our hotel and listening for sex noises and knocking when I do.
I woke up with a Nike swoosh shaved into my chest hair. my friend got 3 stitches. my phone had a text that simply read "fuck you". I say it was a good party.
I'll be accepting presents in the forms of drinks, drugs, and orgasms. So any or all of those will be fine.
There's puke on my pillow. I'm still wearing my wedges. And I have a cab drivers number clutched in my fist.
I'm gonna cougar town the shit out of that prom.
I've noticed we have slowly begun to phase the "B" out of our Bromance.
Like an undercooked grilled cheese that got cold again. But hairy.
And there goes my desire for sandwiches. Forever.
Currently putting together my outfit for this weekend, AKA a poster board that says "I'll cook you breakfast and do all your laundry, take me home." On front and back
We got drunk and crashed a fifty year old woman's birthday party for the food. Whoops.
He texts me "what are you wearing" in the middle of the workday, so naturally I assume he's kidding and respond "the blood of my enemies" #foreveralone
Randomize