I'm too hungover for some lady to talk to me about potatoes
whatever sunny in Philadelphia does on Thursday nights, I'm doing all weekend.
You're the 8th person from last night to text me this morning and ask if I'm ok.
Dude you has no fucking this poptart
What?
I dont know to explain this.
i think i have weasels eating my brain. Also there is a skeleton staring at me from the back of the bathroom door. it's an awkward vomit. come find me please
Be subtle and tell lucas that he should sleep here tonight. And by subtle, i mean show him this text...
whoa! who said he's my boyfriend?
Oops. Sorry. That guy you keep accidentally running into in public. And at home. And with your vagina.
It wasn't even dirty talking, it was more like the soothing gentle nonsense noises you make when you've spooked a horse.
I'm sitting on the toilet eating a Chick-Fil-A breakfast sandwich. How's your Monday?
Can we table this discussion? The roommate is out of town and I have to eat pie on the couch in my underwear.
I'm never celebrating Galentine's Day again. It was a whorrific mess.
We keep making plans but he keeps getting arrested. Such a tease
My liver has officially said "fuck this shit" and escaped from my body.
I’m the skeleton in his closet, but I only come out on Tuesday and Thursday afternoon and when his wife is out of town
He’s exactly what I’m looking for: he’s got a broken heart, a working penis and a new boat!!!
Randomize
