my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
He muttered something about having just washed he sheets, then demanded I give him all my quarters.
clearly I should have checked to see if he was an NRA member before I went back to his house and woke up in Heston's haven.
I always have to poop after I paint my nails. It never fails.
Sitting in a bubble bath with my bong, how's your morning?
Call me as soon as you're able to dial a phone. I just took a shit behind a building in broad daylight and need to get the fuck outta here soon.
Not that you went to little darlings at 3am. But that you checked in on Facebook. C'mon bro. You're better than that.
It feels like one of my ribs evaporated.
Hey ask him if he likes swappy seconds
I'm surprised, it's been so long you must be starving
At a certain point, the zombie-like hunger goes away. Then the sadness sets in. Then you start lying to yourself that you're taking some "me time." Then you remember you dodged chlamydia and Buddha knows what else. Then you're at peace with it.
Come over. I have beer, your weird ass vegan pizza, and a raging hard on.
Marry me.
also I can check "jump into a moving car" off my bucket list if that tells you how tonight is going
God doesn't care if you're a paramedic, you can't do that to someones cat and still get into heaven
I’m doing some soul searching to figure out how much of a slut I’m going to be the rest of the summer.
I need to get laid. Right now that freshman frat pledge & my Econ professor are the leading candidates
That’s quite a spread
Randomize
