I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
swears the blind dude on this train is faking. Every day he stumbles and falls into a different girl's lap and then has to grab her tits to steady himself.
How's your Sunday morning ritual of shitting and throwing up at the same time going?
I woke up with a russian doll attached to my necklace and a post-it note with "keep babushka safe" written on it. Fuck vodka
I think his roommates are using word magnets to tell me that they can hear us. His fridge currently says, "Chris ate out naughty girl."
On a scale from 1 to the worst weekend of my life, that was an 11. I can see again, though.
After he came, I wiped my mouth on my baby blanket. I could feel nana rolling over in her grave.
I asked him if we could hang out sometime when we weren't hammered. He said he'd email me his number... that's when I knew I was going to die alone
I just learned how to imitate a trains smokestack. The downside is it makes you look like you ate cocaine. The upside is YOU LOOK LIKE A TRAIN
I sewed up my pants, stole his girlfriends white shirt, and went to work hungover like a responsible adult.
I just realized I donated our bong to goodwill.. RIP Kimbo Slice
You suck, She hit so hard.
Standing here wondering if its a good idea to cook pork chops in the toaster or not.
I'm not gonna lie. The thing I miss the most about him right now is the air conditioned hotel rooms.
Halfway through the night I was hiding in a trashcan. Then I "sobered" up and ran around the house throwing change because I wanted to make my last moments of 2013 charitable.
He was telling me about how he's leaving on his Mission next week... While we were having sex in the back of his car.
Randomize
