Come home. Im drunk and cutting my own hair. This is bad, i need you.
i decided i am going on the Justin Bobby plan for success. Don't cut my hair for a year, don't shave for a month, land Audrina Patridge. Game on.
He's having sex with his gf again. Every thump of his bed against the wall is insulting to our one night stand.
you looked at me, pointed to a car and silently said "the elephant parks here".
i'm just sitting here watching hocus pocus, eating takeout, and taking self esteem quizzes online while everyone is out partying. you tell me how my night is.
It feels like eating ice cream while riding a unicorn over a rainbow waterfall made of glitter.
That is possibly the gayest thing that was ever thought of by anyone anywhere.
It is a sign that I need a fresh start when Kelly Clarksons new album tells the story of my life.
That feeling when you're ready to convert to the religion of whatever god will stop the vomit. Dynamite is illegal.
Every minute you wait for the sex that's not gonna happen, we're missing a tone deaf, drunk, tard-asaurus rex half-sing a 90's song to a bunch of other dinotards at karaoke.
Oh my god there are animals here. There are actusal animals trying to get him. A giraffe is trying to get in. A giraffee is trying to get in. Is ridiculouss.
He has no idea he's waking up in slut palace tomorrow morning
I'm high. The text bubbles floating do no justice to the underwater experiences
I just put vodka in my apple sauce. Spice up your fucking life.
Good!!! I'm so proud of you for not snorting alcohol. Big girl steps.
Sitting in the car eating a bagel. Watching a guy do tai chi in the parking lot. My morning is fabulous
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