i'd like someone to explain to me why my clothes are all sticky. including my fanny pack. yes, this is a mass text.
well, atleast the road to alcoholism is fun.
I drowning out her crying with songs from the Beatles it's good for us both. She relives her 30s and i dont have to hear her cry
I'm thankful she wil die Alone. And I'm thankful I slept wiht her cousin. And brother.
I went to the gas station and the lady goes I remember you. Broken sunglasses and puke on your car.
Cognac is not meant to be taken in shots. I just wanted you to know the desperation of last night.
Ecstasy should be its own food group.
I'm convinced that college is the only place where one can have an existential crisis over what sweatpants to wear
No it's ok I've been talking to the girl at the Chinese restaurant about your dick for the last 20 minutes. I haven't mentioned your name but she thinks she knows you.
She asked what it would take for you to fuck her. You drunkenly mumbled, "pepperoni pizza" and then got in the cab by yourself. You were smiling too. It was weird.
We need to get fucked up again and play games like "save the tequila but dodge the knife"
Also my face is like def lowkey made of silly putty
Side note: I just realized that I can make my hand warmers double as a heated push up bra.
Scary. I hope people take me seriously. Maybe I should black out less to be sure
Nothin much, just sipping warm franzia from a plastic valentines wine glass while wrapped in my Mexican blanket listening to sappy country songs and mourning my lack of a love life. Hbu?
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