My morning has consisted of lying in a fetal position, eating a whole tub of ben and jerry's, talking to my cat, and setting all of our pictures on fire. Does that answer your question?
the guy i hooked up with is asleep on our couch. please dont fuck him.
I feel like someone was just looking at my memory and took out an eraser and was like "nope he doesnt need that"
the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
I woke up with someone else's vomit on my ass. That's how I'm doing today.
We're celebrating his weight gain and arrest.and by we I mean I, and by celebrating I mean getting dangerously drunk
Dear slutty diary: I lied about feeling guilty of being a homewrecker in order to have more sex. it worked.
Was my shirt on fire at any point last night? Because I'm fairly sure my shirt was on fire.
Weekend plan is a big bag of dope, delivery food, Bollywood marathon and masterbating my dick raw.
I can already tell, the amount of fun I'm having right now is not nearly going to compensate for the amount of "let us never speak of this again" I'm gonna have tomorrow
She picked me up from the bar in her underwear.
Lord give me the strength to not check my tinder messages at my grandmother's wake.
Did a 4 pm walk of GLORY the next day.
Remember that time we were together? Yeah, I don't miss that.
I just got a handjob in the back of an Uber while a large German dude and a Midwestern fuck-boi sang along in falsetto to the Bohemian Rhapsody.
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