Trimmed my pubes and broke your paper shredder. Separate events.
By the power invested in me, I now pronounce your taco to be meaty. Meaty taco meaty taco meaty meaty meaty taco.
I was trying to be an adult about it and simply deal with the situation, but a bowl seemed much more comforting.
Had to belly crawl across the floor to the toilet with my eyes closed to puke my life out without making my hangover worse. Three times.
Just fucked in a kitchen. I never want my penis that close to knives, stoves, or blenders ever again.
I can't take any time off so I'll be here drinking mimosas til I puke at home with my kitty
I think I'm just going to up-end a bottle of wine and look through pictures of what my life used to be.
I think your dick broke my retainer, I normally wouldnt care but my orthodontist died and I don't want my first appt to be blow job broken retainer with a new ortho.
Do you ever actually plan things? Or is it always drugs then whatever happens? I'm considering being worried about you
Like an undercooked grilled cheese that got cold again. But hairy.
And there goes my desire for sandwiches. Forever.
Well I was kicked out of the bar and woke up on a picnic table. I'd say the night was awesome!
So here's my pathetic thought of the day: what does it smell like to be sober?
Is it fucked up to venmo someone for plan-b?
He flipped a shopping cart in the back room and had to leave to make a jazz playlist. If we aren't in love then i don't know what love is.
I was so high last night that at one point I kept licking his neck saying he tasted like soap and truffles.
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