Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
The best time of year to be high is WHEN THE KING CAKES ARE HALF OFF BECAUSE MARDI GRAS IS OVER YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH
Got blown by one of the bridesmaids. Family BBQ today. They all know. Talk about awkward.
I don't talk to her anymore. I lit her birthday presents on fire. Who the fuck puts candles that close to tissue paper?
He fucked volume into my hair. It was amazing.
I swear, its like my old fuck buddies have a 6th sense for when I'm going to be daydrunk. Then they start texting me. And then I start sexting them
After blacking out and loosing my phone for a month, I found it in the parking lot across the street. Last text "rager in the street". I remember none of this.
I wish you could see how much hot sauce and broken glass are in our apartment right now.
Ya he's alive. Apparently he's been drinking Naty and listening to Unbreak My Heart on repeat all day.
He played pinball with my ovaries. He won.
The universe is cradling this hangover like a gay couple cradles their newly adopted chinese baby.
It tasted better than Jesus's hair.
He said he couldn't fuck me cause I kinda looked like my brother
its hard to say precisely how it happened, but the next thing i knew i was on top of a mountain
I am talking to a naked lesbian about robots. I think this means I win life.
Randomize
