So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
summer is not the time to consider going full bush.
The smiley face on that pregnancy test is so damn taunting. It's like it's laughing at me for my poor choices.
In Berlin they just cured HIV with stem cells. I am hereby fucking anything that moves.
I'm still not a hundred percent.. I haven't shit anything solid in two days.. I have pulled my puker muscles and I can't take deep breaths cuz of other unidentified muscles/maybe heart attack
sleeping in bed with your booty calls married sister...you're the stuff heroes are made of.
He was crying because he hiccuped every time he kissed me. We then crawled to the kitchen because neither of us could stand, and I spoon-fed him peanut butter "to cure his ailment."
Out of desperation, I used the leftover sauce from my goat masala as a mixer for vodka shots.
When I tell my children how I survived hurricane Sandy I'll probably leave out the threesome
I really really need to have and out of body experience just so I can talk to myself about this shit that I'm doing with my life.
Sex on acid. Try it. I thought we were fucking in outer space with fireworks inside a rocketship car. Best.
I just wish he'd leave so I can vomit in peace.
I just found a To Do list on the table, written by me last night, that just says "1. Go downstairs. 2. Get Pickles. 3. Laptop"
after last night, ive never not wanted to live so much in my life.
The good news is I woke up fully clothed, on top of my covers, with a half eaten granola bar. So, breakfast was waiting for me and I’m already dressed and ready to go today.
Randomize
