I tried booty calling last night but apparently he was too tired and wants to meet up tonight. I told him planning defeats the purpose.
I just applied for an unsubsidized loan naked. I love the internet.
Apparently 151 is to me what spinach is to popeye.
I hope my margaritas pass through security.
Every one of her profile pictures looks like an ad for American Apparel. Of course she has syphilis.
When I came in she was screaming "boundaries!" at the cat because it was trying to eat her pizza rolls.
the girl walking home behind me started yelling and pointing "i want an ass like hers!" i feel vaguely accomplished.
Everyone is drunk but me. Fantastic. Everyone is hooking up but me. Awkward.
I had a pitcher of margaritas. Now I'm in a laundry room being a 5th wheel and crying. I made myself a bed out of a pool floatie. I win.
I'm at work, and just realized I the beer smell I keep getting random whiffs of is my bra. I fail at life.
And is it bad that I haven't talked to guys who I haven't already dated? I feel like a recycle bin.
Feels like someone put a cigar out where my butthole used to live
That final makes me want to drink myself into the fetal position
My arrest report says I was found in midtown "performing lewd and lascivious acts on top of art meant for public display and enjoyment".
I walked in and saw her crying and singing to her dog
So uh... Did you mail me business cards that describe my profession as "tortured soul"?
Randomize
