my number is 615-555-1212, <3 your favorite asshole
oh. my. god. the guy i hooked up with last night is currently wearing a dress.
I blacked out in 45 minutes and woke up with a missed call from someone I saved in my phone as the karate kid.
Di me a solid and hit me with your car.
Note to all middle aged "I totally let myself go after childbirth" frumpy mothers: I do not dress this way for your husbands. Stop looking at me like that. It's not my fault.
Went home with a guy 2 " his house". Woke up this morn on couch to parents cooking breakfast, piss all over my back and he is no where to be found. That fuckr pissed on me and bounced. His parents are gonna think some drunk bitch pissed their couch.
I've decided that my new worst fear is that I'll end up on "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant"
they duct taped my keg cup to my hand with my sister's phone number on it. I should be ok tonight.
I just want one of her status not to be about Jesus.
For the first time in my life, I paid for my own alcoholic beverage last night. Am I getting ugly?
To be honest, kinda.
I found my hair extensions. They were in my hamper.
The nausea has returned and I can't handle such things to exit my body so violently
I just want to pat him on the head, bake him some cookies, and reassure him that, someday, he will get laid.
you're no funn. i shall go consult my friend vodka on this matter.
I hate that I still want him to look at me as the vagina that got away.
Randomize
