I knew I was high when I wanted to write a poem about how great it felt to wash my face
260 beers this month. I need a new hobby.
Became best friends with the hotdog stand creeper outside the bar. Cried and told him my feet hurt too much to walk home then begged him to hire me.
In my drunkeness I was planning how to throw up without my parents hearing. I was gonna go for a "run" and just throw up outside.
It was like stroking your vagina with a cloud.
I stared at his lazy eye for so long, he thought I had one too. Then we bonded over our lazy eyes. I had to fake one all night. My head is fucking killing me. NEVER pretend to have a lazy eye.
Because everyone is allowed one half drunken 7:30 am walk back to campus in a cowgirl costume, right?
I taped a pair of scissors and a coupon for a waxing on the door. He gets to choose.
I GOOGLED IT. BEES CAN MASTURBATE. WHAT.
Cutting up lines with the edge of my birth control packet. Just reminding you this is the person you've CHOSEN to be monogamous with.
The water at the venue tasted HORRIBLE so I just kept drinking booze. It was like the medievals.
He's saved in my phone as 'MURICA. I think it's safe to say I'm not exactly taking him seriously.
For someone I see at the bar by herself all the time... I should have know she had a tazer.
They left me at home... I'm a liability
home. only unpacked the necessities...contact case and beer.
Randomize
