What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
I smell like booze and the valet literally buckled me in, def top 3 walks of shame
Aaaaand then she sang MDMA to the tune of the YMCA song, with appropriate gestures.
I want to figure out a way to work "if you suddenly die, I might turn into an extreme hoarders" into my valentines day poem
Hi future me, I saved you a big mac under the bed.
That's actually a fantastic idea... The kinky sex dungeon will be vastly improved by the addition of a lightsaber
The school security guard knows my name.... I think I'm missing some memories...
I don't think I will ever be as happy about anything as this man next to me on the bus eating Taco Bell.
Let's put it this way. Mom is bringing me a new shirt and I smell like lube.
You know you suck at relationships when you are sitting in the airport on Christmas day, alone, swiping on Tinder.
He was 6'8" - I shit you not! He sat up in my bed and the ceiling fan got him right in the forehead.
I'm sober now, I ate a whole cantaloupe.
I have to lie to someone and move five gallons of fermenting alcohol across campus but after that i'll hit you up 4 sho
Reminder to self: never have sex on a trampoline. Trampoline burn hurts worse than carpet burn.
Try me, you 5'5 gremlin
Randomize
