I'm at some bar in brklyn... just made out with a guy named Owen.
He is a pre-school teacher... just sang me a song about weather.
I'm at subway, this 8 year old kid is judging my fashion sense with his dad. I want to kill myself.
It's ok, he's just 8, he's not judging you.
He just asked why I'm sitting alone. I honestly want to cry.
you assured me you'd make it home safe because your pizza rolls were waiting up for you.
just remembered that i started a tab for just myself at 50 cent beer night last night... i dont understand my life
And then. You beer bonged 3 tall boys. In a row. Fell into some kids lap. And pulled down my shirt trying to get up. Thank you for that. I got laid
Aaaand my life has been reduced to whether I can reach to flush my puke down the toilet using my foot. The answer is yes.
theres too many punctuation errors in that text to turn me on.
The guys in the quick check just recognized me as the girl who bought rolling papers and whipped cream. This is the walk of shame on crack.
Dude hobos go hard. I learned a lot last night.
Thats why you dont have a "jubilant gunfire celebration"
So glad the long weekend is over so I can bring this bender to a merciful end.
I do NOT want my proposal story to start "...he was peeing on me and then..."
I'm in the woods tripping balls the water is rising why don't you answer me
Hey! How are you feeling? Still preferring soup over sex?
Watching the awkward tinder date at the table next to mine is the most action I've had in months, so there's that.
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