We just built a bong out of a pineapple. I am never leaving hawaii. Ever.
God dammit, you have a cape and I don't even have a fucking jacket.
scratched cornea got me an eyepatch and a blowjob from a girl with a thing for pirates
Hooking up with him would mean my type has officially become... drug dealer.
I've reached the slutty point of no return. And it feels like multiple orgasms and coke lines
Dear Derek. I would like to offer my sincerest apology for the 2 to 6 text messages you are about to read. Also for the 15 minute voicemail, which may or may not have sent. Sincerely, Sober Katie
Also, just had a student offer to sell me Xanax. Want some? Just for like a rainy day. Or our memorial day shitshow. Or just another Wednesday night.
No cash. I had to buy four bowls of soup to meet the credit card limit. I'm not even upset. SO MUCH SOUP.
I'm giving you an age limit on the people you're allowed to hit on at steak n shake at 3 am. I can't see straight and I want a cheeseburger. You want dick. I'm sure we can't order at least one of those. But maybe.
His cat watched us the ENTIRE time. Every time I glanced over the poor kitty looked at me as if I were pelvic thrusting her father to death.
I'm not breaking up with him because his husky is having puppies.
I know you just got bad medical news... But want some moonshine?
Current status: so high that I'm unable to have coherent conversation with my mom, but still knew that when my dad said "shpritzy white stuff" I understood that he was trying to think of "whipped cream."
That text took me 10 minutes.
Think of it as a business transaction. That's how I justify all the horrible things I do. Blow my married boss? Just a business transaction.
If that pentatonix bullshit is playing when I get home we're breaking up
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