Going to pass out with da shoes on. hugging wallstreet journal from tuesday. please check me for liveliness in the morning.
I'm stuck on the dance floor between two fat people. I don't think they feel my existence. Please help.
I believe its time to stop celebrating Thanksgiving. I've been drunk for over a week. If my liver doesn't give out, and I'm not pregnant I will truly have something to be thankful for.
I JUST WANT TO HAVE MILDLY SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE SEX WITH HIM AND CALL HIM CUPCAKE.
She face-timed me on the toilet. My dick is never going to recover from that.
If those antibiotics mean you can't drink, ya might as well pack your bags and re-enroll next fall, because sobriety this week would be social suicide.
I'm trying. I feel like we're trying to have sex with fruitcake. dry and boring.
I refused to call him anything but Drake eyebrows all night.
Just cried because I'm out of oreos. This post-molly depression can go fuck itself.
it'll be like a game of Russian Roulette, but with my vagina.
Can we just agree for a moment that semen in your sinuses is the fucking worst?
All I want to do is lay in my bed and eat hotdogs
I don't know what to say to you.
I don't know what I said to you. Start with that.
The school better be open next year. I’ve been FB stalking Dads of my incoming students and there’s serious DILFage in this class! Maybe 2020 will turn around!
It’s 2020. You’ll probably get knocked up. If you’re really lucky you’ll just get the clap
scale of one to ten how loathsome is it to save my chocolate easter bunny to use for a topping on my edibles
Randomize
