So my shaver died while I was trimming...ya know. And now it is half way done. I don't think there's currently any aesthetic in keeping it this way...
It's the foolproof way to identify who didn't get laid last night
We've already decided our costumes for next Halloween. She's going as Cookie Monster and I'm going as Elmo. She's just going to ask for Oatmeal Cookie shots, and I'm asking for Red-Headed Slut shots.
Dude, its January.
We're going to do the voices too.
Just spent 15 minutes trying to save the life of a fruit fly that dive-bombed my coffee. I figured it doesn't make sense to let two souls die in this place...
I didn't cheat on him. He just hasn't been informed of the open part of our relationship.
Adderal just makes me love life. I want to do so much. I just can't stop thinking about all the wonderful opportunities we have and how lucky we are and I want to make a difference in the world. I just have to reign in my brain and convince it that changing the world starts with a college degree, which depends on studying for these finals.
The number of injuries I get impersonating Shakira while drunk is getting ridiculous. Sprained vagina, dude.
I'm figuring, since someone shoved pizza crust in my ear last night, there might be some leftover pizza.
Either I just got hit on by a 10 year old.girl dressed like a boy or I just got hit on by a midget lesbian. Either way I feel uncomfortable
One day. I will touch his hair. I'm curious if it'll be like a soft cloud.
He won't let me go to the bars unless I can manage to get flip flops on.
Sounds like he's doing this for your own good...
Boats looked like robot pelicans and time was slow and now im on wipe out
i got to his house for our first date at the same time as his dealer, so what I'm saying is I'm in love
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
The logic in me says "don't text him" .But the vagina in me says "text him".
Randomize
