I just came to the conclusion that the most depressing part of my day is when I have to put clothes on.
He's sitting on the floor holding his bracket and crying, literally crying... he just keeps saying "Kansas how could you?" over and over
Just found a "how to get laid" book on the dresser and am now a victim of method number 16 corollary 7.
Holding a cold bottle of mikes hard lemonade against my pulverized taint....this is my Sunday night
I've been randomly kik messaging bearded men I find on Instagram while sitting unshowered in my underpants. I'm like the girl version of a creepy uncle.
The universe is cradling this hangover like a gay couple cradles their newly adopted chinese baby.
how many people can say they bit their tattoo off?
I have a LOT of reasons to worry about radical feminists taking my lady balls, frankly. A lot.
I know. I feel like I should be doing mature responsible adult things though. Like getting loans, working 60 hours every week and not eating burritos in bed, ya know?
I think he's hit rock bottom. You know it's a low point in life when you cry because you weren't invited to sit in a box car and watch porn with two other straight dudes.
An hour is enough time for me to get drunk and win a dry hump marathon so I hope you have somewhat similar or better goals
All of my Tinder matches have neck tattoos. It's like God wants me to go to jail again.
I just wanted a bootycall and now somehow I'm at his parents playing dominoes. But they have tequila so it's cool
So I figured out why that guy from Tinder stopped messaging me back. He got married.
sooo, that video of you eating lasangna with the strobe going magically reappeared on my phone
Randomize
