The only thing I have to prove last night happened is a fireman's hat full of puke.
i woke up with a grocery list signed by "the people who ate all your shit while you were passed out"
her name was charlotte except you kept calling her chatroulette and yelling at her to show you her boobs
No stds, not pregs, and lost two pounds. I'd call that a successful two years of grad school.
I think it was the chocolate body paint and awesome blowjob that finally made us official.
This is the way my sobriety ends: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
As long as he sees me topless I don't care. Redemption. REEEDDDEMMMPPPTTIIIOOONNNNN
My phone now knows what I type and it prompts me with frequently used words. And anytime I use "and" and hit the space key two of the words are "unicorn" and "sausage"
There are rocks in my bed. And dirt all over my face. Explain?
I think I just sold a snake to a stoned teenager.
Exactly. Some of us want to get married. And some of us want to wear sombreros and do cocaine. To each their own.
Looking forward to meeting the person naked and passed out at my kitchen table.
Woke up at 10 with bourbon being shoved down my throat and him yelling, "shot train! Don't be a bitch"
Was so close to hoppin on it but then I realize it's not a dick and I needed to keep walking. Primal instincts.
I swear, when I turn 21 in four months, I'm going to carry a flask around with me, and make a drinking game out of everything.
Randomize
