I'm at subway, this 8 year old kid is judging my fashion sense with his dad. I want to kill myself.
It's ok, he's just 8, he's not judging you.
He just asked why I'm sitting alone. I honestly want to cry.
Beverly Hills, 90210. Cleveland Browns, 0.
I woke up with ten beers in my bag that hoarded at the party last night. Rally? Its five somewhere.
I just blindly shoved it in. I'm still not sure which hole I got.
I wish I could put booze in boobs and store it for later. I wouldn't need a flask. For $7000, they should do amazing things like that.
It's almost like he dry humped the last remaining bit of good person out of me.
Just beat off to internet porn while talking to my mom on the phone and eating a cinnamon roll. U have 5 minutes to get on my level
...i'd have to set their sheets on fire.
Seriously, come get him. He's not even a person anymore. He's a loud, drunk, cock-blocking wrecking ball.
We need to be on the same page regarding the 3some this time. No more "one of us should probably leave" moments.
Well two things you gotta know if you're gonna live here. your alcohol tolerance is gonna need to go up, and people do blow. Get used to it. Nobody is gonna pressure you into it. That shits expensive
Because nothing screams stable like yelling at a guy in a bar because last time you hooked up he stole your underwear.
If I am telling you about the details of the shits I take I probably don't want to have sex with you. Probably.
They already have a joint checking account. She's got his balls in her purse! What's next, a shared Facebook account?
I'd just like to take a moment now to apologize sincerely for getting drunk and making an as of myself at your Christmas party next week. I'm especially sorry for sleeping with your baby sister.
Randomize
