I puked in a mailbox on the way back from your house.
The dean held back my hair as I was puking after graduation. That means so much more than a diploma and a handshake.
My corndog is like a popsicle of bread. A WHOLE. POPSICLE. OF BREAD.
Drunk walkin through police station. America
Breakfast-of-shame with my mother. I was in half of a sexy Mad Hatter costume. We had artisan bagels and judgement.
I found you laying in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and a slice of bologna on your face. You said you were having a spa day.
His phone pocket dialed me while he was crapping. He was quietly singing stayin alive and possibly passing his intestines.
oh you know, the usual stuff. getting kicked out of bars and sleeping in cars.
all i know is there's a picture on my phone of him wearing my purple sweatpants and licking the bottom of my foot.
he was high. i was rolling face. we were both wearing grateful dead t shirts. at that point it's like we had no choice but to fuck
I'm still not 100% sure who I'm sleeping with
I would give a kidney to fuck him and he knows it. That bastard.
Grateful to be alive soliciting dick pics. Thankful i'm alive for these little things and especially these big ones too.
Did you happen to find my bra? I'm pretty sure I still had it on before we left that bar
She was wearing a grass skirt and a watermelon bra. WATERMELONS.
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