All i remember was he was wearing billibong pants... well actually my mom found that out for me.
We're having the conversation about what happened last night, all we can come up with is that we came home, drank two litres of lemonade, I took one of her seizure pills and we fell asleep with sabrina the teenage witch on
I just threw up in a patch of wild flowers on the side of the road. I never knew rock bottom was so beautiful.
I think it is impossible 2 take a person seriously when their last name is Pancake
It's like leaving me for his wife wasn't enough. He had to give me an STD too.
For future reference "bring our litter sisters on our date day" is not such a good idea
hey fuckhead. when i said not to grow shrooms in our apartment, that didn't mean "yea, sure. grow shrooms in our apartment"
I was wearing my get used bookstore shirt when we fucked. Ironic yet appropriate.
What if there is no right person? Maybe it's just the right cat. Or the right 12 cats.
I'm definitely not at Wal-Mart eating jalapeno poppers with an elevated blood alcohol content
There is someone out there for you right now. And we will find her. Or him. Her. Her, we'll start with tits.
One of your snapchats was of you with a 40oz of Mickeys and the caption: "Deep Throat back in her natural habitat"
Yesterday I went home with one shoe, today I go home with three. Fucking win.
I wanna get to the point where I can just send a question mark and get an exclamation point in response
So many questions...the two most important are, where the fuck is my booze and how did you even get the couch through the door?
Randomize
