Nothing too bad. Lost a stuffed horse on a stick and tore my clothes off. Again.
My t9 writes chubies instead of bitches.
either way. win, win.
Im broke. I spend all my money on weed cigarettes alcohol and food. In that order. I cant even cut one of those because you know it'd be food. I already stopped getting my nails done just so i could support my bad habits.
He came in the heat vent in my car. Don't ask how it happened.
please tell me that the half empty jar of cocktail sauce on the table has nothing to do with my missing seamonkeys
I'm making a contract of things you're not allowed to put in my ass
Do you remember calling yourself Captain Cockblock and openly giving out everyones sexual history? Because you did.
She called picking up at 2pm a matinee drug deal.
the boys love us. they call us "the stoner girl suite down the hall". not very inspired, but flattering nonetheless
He asked me when I was coming to bed while simultaneously drilling a fart into the mattress. Don't fucking get married.
They have a stripper pole on their deck. Normal.
You never know how much you love your bed until you sleep with 4 other people in your car.
You would think that me seductively unzipping my cat feetie pajamas would make him want to fuck me.
Told the cab driver to take me to narnia last night. Turns out there's a bar called narnia on the south side of town. We are in business
ok, muffins say "love me", waffles say "fuck me", got it.
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