Just wrote a paper about alcohol abuse that sounded like my weekend...
I don't know how I'm boarding the plane tomorrow. I have my car registration.
We just threw our carpet out of our room. Via fourth floor window style.
There was a staple in my grits at waffle house last night. My knees are bruised as hell. And I puked pink all over my bathroom. Gooood night.
She ditched her BF in the library to come see me wasted at a house party and i still ended up banging that rugby chick instead.
Can we just ponder our lives for a second.
No I think my brain may implode in a puff of cocaine and sparkles.
Want to come over? I'm getting stoned and watching Netflix and making s'mores over a candle in my room
The drunk people on this bus are singing Journey songs. This is the whitest thing I've ever experienced
Yesterday we were fuck buddies and today I'm meeting his mom. That escalated quickly.
Is it ironic that our divorce court is a block from where we had our reception? Or is it just sad? Alanis has confused my understanding of irony.
I hate her so much I want to fuck her boyfriend.
I just found a nug casually in my room under my duffel bag. Is this a sign I need help?
Not only did I sleep with the guy but I think I may have called my work and quit to go work for him.
I gave her the last ten dollars to my name and bitch comes back with a six pack of bud light and a pack of sour patch kids
So many questions...the two most important are, where the fuck is my booze and how did you even get the couch through the door?
Randomize
