I think I'm pregnant with his hipster baby. It keeps kicking my stomach to the beat of mgmt songs.
positive spin of the day: since my nose is blocked from allergies cleaning the puke this morning was much easier
I would get the one fuckin stripper that's a lesbian. THE ONLY ONE
She said i saw her in the study room, waved, disappeared, came back with a coke from god knows where, and slurred "i have a drinking problem but i ate grits"
He came in my nose, then said it would help clear my sinuses.
Just went outside to gather hail to use to make margaritas since we ran out of ice. That's God's way of helping us out.
I'm dressed like a deranged cupcake. Let's get fucked up.
When we were fucking he said and I quote "we're like a sex fajita"
i officially have over $300 in my bank account. that's a year's worth of chipotle.
I'm going to start referring to my liver is Livy. I feel like if I give it an affectionate nickname it will hate me less. Livy isn't ready for syllabus week.
I think we all know your liver needs a man's name.
Either she's trying to smother me and failing, or she just has a really bad sense of where her tits should go.
He offered to let her do a line of coke off his hard-on. She said she'd had that hard-on and it would be a bump, not a line. Everyone laughed. That's why he left.
So that answers the first question but not the second: how the fuck am I getting home?
It was at the same house, but a different party, when lesbians set me on fire. So there's that.
You don't have issues. You're a consenting adult having sex at work. Go you.
I think it may be easier if I stay drunk/high til the wedding. You game?
Randomize
