I'm sorry for everything. i woke up with two citations stapled to my shirt.
Lets drop out of school and be professionally skinny and drunk
I feel like your standards for women is like rent-a-centers standards for credit.
i need a wealthy benefactor or a cocktail job. or to start stripping. or kill myself. whatever.
And by that I mean I told her the plot of the first batman movie as my life and it took her like 20 minutes to figure it out
so i had a dream that andrew cuomo ate me out. guess who i'm voting for?
at roughly 3:30am you called me saying you were gonna start a big game of strip twister in politics class and i was your partner.
Get in the lobby, you have to sign my boxers
I should just black out in my front yard again- that was a great nights sleep.
When you sober up and come in here, I'm in your bed because you pissed on me in mine. So fuck. Off.
you wouldn't let anybody come in after ten. everybody was standing outside and you just yelled "BEING PUNCTUAL IS IMPORTANT" and slammed the door. i dont think you should be allowed to have parties anymore
it concerns me that i was already that drunk at 10
So I'm just casually at the grocery store when I remember that there's still a clove of garlic in my vagina
So I heard her yell at him and I went downstairs to find he had lit up each one of my smokes and taken just one drag off each and had em lined up on the table. She says he "experiments" when on Ambien.
Why did u text me "I want to get drunk and go to pizza hut tomorrow. don't let me forget." at 3am??
That text was pretty fucking self-explanatory, man.
I bet he’d be surprised by the epic blow job he’d get if he stopped talking about his wife long enough for me to get in the mood
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