It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
you think thats bad? Today I had to pop a zit on my sack.
I feel like none of my dresses scream slut the way I'd like them to
His rich uncle has six months to live. I feel pregnant.
ugh i can't even wear this perfume anymore. it just brings back blurry memories of blowjobs and regret.
It doesn't matter how many times you look in your purse, Your keys are not going to be there. Maybe you left them at the bar.
Maybe they fell out of my pocket last night when I rolled down the hill.
He ended our Skype call with, "I'm going to poop and then go play my ukulele in the park."
I mean, I love her. But not "I'll have a threesome with her." Type of love.
I'm surprised they let us keep partying at that hotel bar, that's like the 3rd time I've had to try blocking the view of him peeing off the balcony. I earn my free drinks.
We were in the middle of a serious discussion about social justice and he pulled sequins out of his teeth and kept talking like nothing had happened.
Made a pinky promise to a lesbian on crack in WeHo. No one knows what I promised
Oh by "being festive" I mean make tacos for dinner.
But idk if I cried about life then banged him or banged him and then cried. Chicken or the egg?
You put on a bike helmet, yelled "doesn't matter fuck it" then punched a stick the fire
My mom added me on Snapchat which means I am officially done with Snapchat.
Randomize
