so the situation is a+b=c where "a" is how much you weight, "b" is my gravitational pull, and "c" is how erect your penis is.
I just watched my mom open a wine bottle with an electric drill. I have never been so proud.
It's not weird mascara. I just have puke crusted on my eyelashes.
there's just a random girl here singing about how much she loves fiber
she got into med school, i feel dumb for banging her dance major friend
I know it's not technically the "Mile High Club" but we def need a name for the airport bathroom. Cuz that just happened.
We'll talk about this tommorrow when I'm not mistaking my fingers for French fries....
At the very least, I mastered a nap while occasionally being dry humped.
I never thought wine and chicken nuggets would end up being a thing that I did, but here we are
Just cried because I'm out of oreos. This post-molly depression can go fuck itself.
Nothing says "Happy New Year" like having to shit into a plastic bag.
Please tell me I did not drink enough whiskey to think that having sex with my boyfriend while his best friend was on the floor next to us was a good idea.
No I'm not high but I did cry for over an hour tonight because I realized that they never made a sequel to "Under the Tuscan Sun" with Diane Lane.
I mean...if Marco gets pregnant, it is either the spawn of Satan or the second coming of Christ (neither of which I want in my life). So let's just hope that he doesn't grow a womb and that we don't have to consider either option.
Drunk twilight is the only twilight
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