even in the morning, she still thinks my british accent is real.
not allowed to tweet this cos she's following me but i definitely just got head in a stairwell of the university of chicago. wanted you all to know.
I havnt had this much beer since i losodt my virginity. thank. god.
We spent three hours cleaning our room this morning. It was spotless and smelling good. I come home from work tonight and she has already smoked weed in it and "accidently" spilled vodka on the floor.
you're letting him buy you a plane ticket...to kentucky...so you can fuck him?
i know. i'm only adding to the interstate sex trade problem.
Playing hide and seek with all those cheeseburgers... Not our finest moment.
All right cuz right now I'm in one of those moods where the shear thought of doing anything more strenuous than making a sandwich has me wanting to curl up in the feeble position and splash around in a puddle of my own tears.
Some clips from last night: grinded like I haven't since college. Took shots with a bartender with a bad ass mustache. Made up a string of lies with fake names and occupations. Slept behind the couch with pizza in my hand
Thanks to a poorly written tweet a whole bunch of people thought I died last night.
He's not replying to my booty call. Like wtf. You have ONE PURPOSE IN LIFE.
Is it a bad thing that I've made out with everybody I work with?
No joke. There's a picture of the priest I made out with on my parents' refrigerator.
He somehow obtained a megaphone and managed to scare away the out-of-control house party—the house party that HE started, by the way— by pretending to be the police.
I love you, and I just washed my hair in my work sink with handsoap.
You were laying next to me in bed at 4:30 a.m. I asked if you were drunk and you said you weren't drunk you were buzzed like a bumblebee. Then kept rambling on about having to call out of work.
Randomize
