I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
Did I miss anything?
A gay irish pirate, a caveman and hunter s tompson.
so we also did drugs
Barsexuality is the new black.
We're playing Edward Bottle-of-eight-dollar-sale-wine-hands now
and now there are teeth marks on my dick.
And in my birthday dress, with my friends, i peed on myself in line for the club. Still went in and partied. I remember pieces
i ended up playing naked naked monopoly and hangman with my dealer. i really love my life.
I owe a guy a shoe because I threw it over a fence. That is all.
Why do I even exist?
There is no way to say this. Dude, I peed your bed. No questions, no answers. My flight leaves in 30 minutes. Use my detergent. Also, THE VODKA IN THE FRIDGE IS YOURS.
Ran into my statistics professor at the bar, he chugged a car bomb and yelled "x bar mothfucker!". On average I'm loving this PhD program.
Matched with the lumberjack. Here's your wedding invite.
extra points if i make kids and or the elderly cry
Some days, I wish I could get a hug from a furry muppet
I want sex. When is an appropriate time post funeral to ask for something like that. Like when it gets dark out?
I woke up with my winter coat on, next to a polaroid of me, her and a swan...so no I don't remember our conversation.
Randomize
