It made me feel like I need a reality show of my life so I could go back and watch the episodes to figure out how I got from the trunk of the car to my neighbors tree house...
Grilled cheese is the best thing. ever. better than boys, and alcohol, and sex, and chocolate, and money. But not really the last two.
Girl just texted me a pic of her boobs with the caption "don't think I'm a whore"
so we were having anal, both very very drunk when he started shouting his roomates name
next time the cops show up in riot gear we should probably leave
and miss being on the news....no way
you could never motorboat her...you'd have to motor-titanic her
Need your help. He's locked himself in the bathroom with his bong and his childhood collection of Goosebumps books.
I have reached the state of intoxication where it is now a requirement to sit while peeing.
Lazier than spoon feeding yourself popcorn and debating adult diapers so you don't have to leave the mentalist marathon on tv?
I just realized I slept with a guy who used the pickup line "do you have a bandaid? I skinned my knee when I fell for you."
Note to self: remember to figure out whether melted cheese is a liquid when not stoned
when I type Christina's, my phone's predictive text assumes my next word is boobage
Your birthday is now over. Your day in the spotlight has dimmed and now you're as special as everyone else. The world goes back to revolving around me. Good night.
I'm just hitting the tip of the iceberg on accents for this trip...so basically my panties are done for.
She was sitting on the couch in his tux jacket...no pants, eating cold vegetable lasagna. Yet I'm the weirdo?
Randomize
