It's like a choose-your-own-adventure. But the adventure is already chosen for you. And it sucks.
U sang "shots, shots, shots" then walked 2 ur top drawer and threw socks everywhere singin "SOCKS, SOCKS, SOCKS!"
Security brought me back to our hotel room in a wheelchair last night. Vegas.
And if you ever tell anyone that I will fucking kill you.
i'm exhausted. do you know how hard it is to put together an outfit that is professional enough to secure a babysitting job yet slutty enough to let him know i'm down for sex during naptime?
Imma do me. And by that, I mean I'm going to walk across campus still drunk at 9am on a Tuesday.
Dad was on the deck drinking straight bourbon. He stopped, puked on his feet, and then continued drinking and talking about compound interest.
I am very happy to share that the hospital says the testicle pain is normal and that they are going to take care of it.
Final Summary: could he eat a lit sparkler? Probably. Could he do it while peeing off the roof? I'll tell you when you get to the ER.
Brought some lesbians back to the light side of the force
I'm at the point in my life where I'm gonna sell my eggs for cash
Your normalization of crazy is frightening.
Suffice to say, I think if people ask about your bruises, and you look them right in the eye, and say "they're from fucking...", people would be like, "respect."
Fuck you. Leave my nipples out of this. THEY DID NOTHING TO YOU
Blacked out and Irish exited last night. At dinner. On a Sunday.
Remind me to tell you: When threeways go awry, my MLK weekend story.
Randomize
