so i have my big date this weekend, and i was practicing giving head with a bottle in the shower. i stopped and looked at the botton of the bottle. it was PURE MOLD! if i die, dont tell the doctors how this happened....
you are hot. that is all.
who is this?
the delivery driver from silvermine.
Following a car with a GPS. We don't know where he's going, but he probably has a better idea of where we're going than we do. Also, very high.
I've been here 20 minutes and some creepy old man told me he wanted to know what my insides felt like. I hate gay bars.
I don't think I can handle being a slut. There is a lot more emotional stress that I never realized.
she just came into my room, drunkenly shoved six dollars into my bra and told me to spend it on chicken wings.
I cant prove it..but im almost positive that you were just outside my window watching me while eating out of a bag of Cheetos...
I'm over this relationship. I'm just going to get drunk all day, wake up in a puddle of my own vomit again, and go on with my life
I don't know what to be prouder of: the fact that last night i was able to successfully find my way home from evanston with 3-d glasses on, or that i was able to make my way around my house in the dark with my pants around my ankles
let me drop the bass on your empty vagina syndrome
It'll be a romanticized airport meeting until I'm judged for sitting on his face in the terminal
the cops are being surprisingly chill about david hanging from a tree with no pants.
I just referred to our excessive fireball consumption as a team building exercise and everyone in group text agreed.
We're not alcoholics, we're a god damn team.
I woke up on some strangers couch covered in salad mix and oatmeal cream pies. The struggle is absolutely real.
He turned on read receipts specifically so i'd know he was ignoring me.
Randomize
