I look like Roseanne just got in a bar fight with Rosie O'Donnell.
Im am drinking whisky alone in my parents basement. I think I just watched the point of no return stroll by.
So for Valentine's Day...I finally swallowed. I feel like I earned that steak.
Bank of America texted me 7 times in 12 hours to say my balance was below $50. I kept transfering money back in. Then I texted my bank saying that it was okay, i knew what I was doing.
i just entered cocaine into my calorie counter.
Last thing I remember was you straddling a guy in a wheelchair on the dance floor.
It's one of those mornings where you wake up and want to go to church for the first time in ten years. THAT shameful.
So apparently I threw a potted plant at a clown last night and told him to get his life together.
He showed up at my front door with Plan B and a rose...
His status said "sad." of course I liked it. I don't even care that I was the only one. Facebook isn't your god damn journal, we don't care about your problems.
I felt like a responsible adult. A responsible adult that may or may not end up shitfaced. But not heaving purple puke into a urinal like last time because I'm classy now.
after you got high, you started to make guac with your bare hands and said: "there's soda bubbles in my legs"
He just said "I can't wait to penetrate you tomorrow" I sat in silence for a second...he attempted to save it by saying "I can't wait to enter you".
Dude, someone puked in my washing machine last night, I tried turning it on to clean it...not a good idea
I need to go to St. Louis more often. The brides sorority sisters were practically fighting over me once they heard I work on Wall St.
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