ID DO HER
SHE HAS LUMPS OF DEODORANT IN HER ARMPIT, I THINK ONE FELL IN YOUR DRINK
You text me last night that you invented a new food. Cheese-less grilled cheese. Congrats, you made toast.
mowing the lawn. still drunk. If my dad doesn't appreciate this I swear I'm dissowning everyone including him
I have absolutely nothing sober to say to you.
Part of my whole not being a slut anymore involves not giving other peoples boyfriends blowjobs
She hash tagged the word blow job in her text. Tonight's going to be good.
No memories of receiving this. Or of getting home. Or of apparently developing a taste for marmalade, which I assume is yours because I have literally never eaten it before. It's all over the kitchen. And my phone. And in my hair. Oh god I wish I wasn't on the train to work. X And sorry about the kitchen x
We are gunna have the best winter break smoking weed and eating ham
you know that feeling on acid where you think the world stops just to fuck with you? That's what it felt like.
My synapses wont fire in a pattern that will process those facts
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
Everyone keeps telling me I look so healthy and happy today: the power of the penis people!!
Just woke up and spent the first hour of consciousness throwing up with the Rocky theme song on repeat.
You licked my eyeball, you are officially cut off. If you just missed you can have a second chance on Friday.
I didn't think you were that drunk until you were trying to rub your foot on my vag under the table at the thai place.
Randomize
