Is it really that bad? I heard it was like pooping. I like pooping.
Standing in front of the open refrigerator with a 3/4 empty bottle of wine eating Bac-o's from the jar, topless. Somebody really should've taught me better coping skills.
Damn you and your Monday night power hours.
i think i broke my dog last night...fuck
may or may not have figured out a way to make my mom a drug mule to bring me ecstasy...
Well I checked the bush outside his apartment building this morning, and he wasn't there... So I knew he was home.
Dilemas of the modern woman: deciding whether or not to write on your ex's wall for his birthday. This is serious.
I AM A HOUSE CAT. I CANNOT DO THIS LION BUSINESS WE CALL THE SINGLE LIFE
The trash can in my living room is full of Popsicle sticks and my vibrator has taken up permanent residence on my coffee table. I'm not doing anything productive. Clearly.
The bald guy bought me a shot so I chugged it and then walked out to the middle of the dance floor and told an old woman that might be your moms twin to bend it over...We didn't end on a good note though. Dude she stepped on my vans.
I like that our conversation ended with "im gonna go get pregnant goodnight"
Something tells me your "Titties for Tracy Morgan" fundraiser won't pan out.
he keeps various drugs in his kitchen cupboard like groceries. that is my new life goal as an adult.
I woke up at 2 AM to find them in my living room with a radio flyer wagon full of milk glass plates and a Holstein cow. How am I going to explain this to my landlord!?!
So Blakes coming home... so if youre like fingerbanging the shit out of yourself on the kitchen table...wrap it up
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