SECOND walk of shame from the westside Hilton, SECOND foreign family w kids staring at me in my dress, glitter purse, spiky heels and booze breath. I said I was going to church. More confusion.
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Friends are holding an intervention and have no idea this gatorade is half vodka. This is gonna be the best intervention ever.
So I was throwing up in this fancy toilet at a party last night, when he decided it would be funny to flush it. It was a beday. I had to walk out with toilet water and regurgitated rumpleminze all over my face and shirt.
I'm not 100% sure, but I think someone gave me a bath last night...
Make sure you take the apple pie out of your pocket before you pass out.
My vagina is not really on board with my "emotional issues"
Dude. All those hangovers I never had came back with a vengeance. I just opened the door of this car to barf. The car was not motionless. We are on the autobahn.
As I fucked him you stood outside my door screaming, "I'M NOT JUDGING YOU!" over and over.
I was judging you.
I can't bring an entire liter in the bar in my purse. I mean I can. I might. I'm probably gonna.
Regardless of how one feels after a break up, whiskey must be consumed.
I still don't understand if he's using me to write his resume or if we're dating
I literally just want someone to fuck me and buy me cheeseburgers. I don't even want a relationship at this point. Just a chew toy and some food.
I woke up with my converse still on and a plate of pasta next to my face, if that gives you any indication of how my night went
I'm like a bad decision making factory. I need to sit down and have a chat with my decision making elves.
Randomize
