It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
she looked like the bat from fern gully.
I just tried to put my feet in my slippers and found cans of beer in them. Christmas in fucking july.
I even made an effort to dress like a conservative young lady who doesnt black out and throw up in her bed regularly today.
I just put a tampon in while driving. Don't tell me I don't got skills.
i'm pretty sure i saw my life flash before my eyes when we ran a red light. i continued to drink and be the drunk backseat driver.
No hurry on coming over. My body currently wants everything on the inside to be on the outside. But really. Don't hurry.
And by "hammer out the details" you know I mean spending 20 minutes on wedding plans then getting wine drunk, right?
So the keyword here is "hammered"?
Like, what's the customary waiting period to hookup with your newly single ex that you never stopped hooking up with?
We got to his house, cuddled while watching game of thrones, then fucked during the repeat airing.
Apparently I was having great conversation with this 48 year old on grindr & he was concerned as to how I was getting home.
this makes me concerned. not enough to actually do anything about it, but yeah.
but if we have a President Trump come Tuesday, I might throw myself off the Walt Whitman Bridge so Thursday might not work for me after all.
Eaten today: granola bar, pumpkin donut, and fritos. Oh, college nutrition.
was i wearing any clothes at that point?
socks and a thong
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