Throw up on the ground, people dancing to loud Bollywood music, seats literally missing. Fuck I hate public transit
they described our state of being as looking similar to a crime scene....you were on the ground and i was running around screaming.
I don't know if its because i'm stoned or what but painting my kitchen yellow makes it look crooked
I smell like booze and the valet literally buckled me in, def top 3 walks of shame
I refuse to have another spring break doomed by pregnancy.
You do realize there's a subtle difference between not remembering your outfit from april 17th of last year vs forgetting that last night you undressed in the street and were grabbing every dick you could reach, right?
Get caught with marijuana. Cop takes piece. Buy new bong. Circle of fun.
Also- bikini mowing was a horrible idea. One truck just drove by 3 times, turning around at the end of the block each time. My tan may be better for it but my conscience has been raped.
It's kind of like, standing in a garage and pretending you're a car. Except you're naked.
My goal for the weekend: procure a blowjob using only stern glances, hand gestures, and crudely-drawn stick figures.
All I've done today is make sangria and wonder what the hell I'm doing with my life.
I have a tab of a google image search of onion rings open and it is making me so happy.
At least they play good movies in the waiting room of the pregnancy resource center.
starting to feel like a fuck wizard with a magical sixth sense for people fucking.
good news, i've got tacos. bad news, kevin's in the ER. more good news, the tacos were free.
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