I just came to the conclusion that the most depressing part of my day is when I have to put clothes on.
I didn't cheat on him. Cheating means finding out. I made sure he was at work first. After the guy left I got shitfaced just so nothing seemed out of the ordinary when he came home.
He completely dissapeared at the baseball game. We found him passed out at the hotel three hours later with souviner photos of himself at the top of the Sears Tower.
I have 3 texts in my phone that say "Thanks King Tyler". I think I've successfully drank myself into a monarchy.
also, add "teaching boys to sext" to my charity work
I'm stealing this baby.
Well I always support illegal activity but where would you put it?
Pitting the remainder of the bottle against my hangover. I'm expecting an all out cage match for my soul and wellbeing.
I just called the on campus pharmacy and asked the pharmacist to tell me how each one of my medications will react with "excess alcohol consumption". And I'm not even ashamed...I've reached a new low.
By the end of the first quarter he was so hammered he was pouring beer into the crockpot with the miniature hot dogs and BBQ sauce saying he loved the supper bowl and he loves taking mini weinies to the face
If there is a ladylike way to throw up in your favorite toilet, I just did it.
I'll be the Broncos and you be the Seahawks and you can pound the shit out of me.
I just want to braid flowers into his hair and steal all of his pills.
Figured out how to triple bathroom speed at #lollapalooza.. Girl squats, guy 1 goes between her, guy 2 uses urinal. Your welcome.
My sex life is driven by spite and alcohol
I smell like cotton candy and guilt.
Randomize
