Check if I'm alive tomorrow. If not, tell my parents I died happy and that there's a gay cheerleader in the spare bedroom
I was giving him a blow job in the kitchen, but it was uncomfortable. so i took the oven mitts and used them as knee pads.
Don't tell me i'm not fucking resourceful.
I was. I was trying to blow bubbles in the toilet after I threw up in it. They had to carry me everywhere. I lost a sock.
You insisted I take photos of you vomiting off the top of the tree.
I'm honestly too sad to drink and hang out with strippers. This breakup sucks.
just walked past the recycling bin in class, there's keystone cans in it. go cougs.
But seriously he was like a god with his hands. My vagina feels annointed.
She keeps feeding me drugs. Its like I'm her baby bird or something
Does the room smell any better?
Yeah, i sprayed perfume. It smells like Victoria's Secret, if Victoria's secret was that she was homeless.
Just threw up in the trash can at my desk. I guess "beating the hangover" eventually leads to this.
Do you wanna do something, or just stare at each other and fantasize about death like we usually do
He stood up through the sunroof yelling "CHOCOLATE MILK BITCHESSSS!!!! YOU AIN'T WORTH SHIT NOW!!!" the sad part is he wasn't even drunk yet. I worry about him sometimes.
I think drunk me saved him in my phone as "beautiful man" to play a joke on sober me
woke up, covered in gummy bears, with a note that said "the gummy army won"
I had Mac n cheese made with weed butter last night. Epic
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