you were carrying a trash bag around insisting it was your purse. I'll let you guess how your night went
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
We went to his house and he brought a jar of pickles to bed. I think im in love.
I'm eating dry tortillas on a mattress without a sheet. and i thought my life would change after graduation.
I am literally missing a chunk of eyelashes. That's how fun it was.
He offered me a ride home but i walked. He lives by an elementary school so a 10 yr old safety officer helped me across the street during my walk of shame
thanks for being the calm eye of my shit storm.
THIS NIGHT WILL NOT GO DICKLESS
how did my horoscope know i was too hungover to operate a stove.
Last time we had a party like that I woke up naked on the pool table with a chalk outline around me and a empty bottle of jager duct taped to my hand.
Yea. I'm excited about this party too
I have dibs on his crisis of faith.
I don't feel bad about fucking old guys. That's what I want. It's what I likeeeeee.
I was THIS CLOSE. But drunk me wanted to play those washboard abs with a spoon, like an actual washboard. Apparently that hurts, so I just squished it out at home alone.
I went through my entire iTunes library and made a playlist called "Feelings". I have 7.5 hours of feelings.
He did a backflip because drugs
Randomize
