I'm not a real person
I'm sorry, everyone knows that
i wish i could "like" people's thoughts in real life like i can on facebook
you can....by speaking....
You sprayed lysol all over me. You said that my soberness was infecting your night.
We went to IKEA super baked wearing fake mustaches. You?
You have my approval. I will dance and throw skittles at your funeral.
This is going to be the time I got green body paint on Chris' ceiling all over again...
There are panties and mini bottles of Fireball in my purse. Except for the broken toe incident, I'd say last night was probably a success.
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
He started a convo with me by saying that we went to high school together and then recommended I try meth.
I though he and I knew each other well enough that we could go to my hotel room to do a bunch of cocaine together without their being any homoerotic implications, but NOOOOOOOOO!
I woke up with my face covered in mustard. Your mom said I ate hotdogs like a pornstar
Thinking about wearing all black to the bar tonight since I'll be attending my liver's funeral.
After the day I've had, I can't decide if donuts or fireball would be the appropriate priority.
MY LIFE IS A TRAINWRECK THATS ON FIRE BUT SOMEHOW STILL MOVING, I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SCREAM OUTSIDE AT 2AM
When my card got declined you bought the vibrator without me even asking. This is what friendship is.
Randomize