I think I'm in Tiajuana
You are not in Tijuana. I saw you an hour ago
I could be
we were so high last night we were cutting bread with my iphone
curled up in a ball on my bed listening to my "cuddle with a boy" playlist. prettty high.
I feel like none of my dresses scream slut the way I'd like them to
i'm drinking margaritas from a pouch...really dont think i'm in the position to judge anyone...
I tipped the hot bartender my entire wallet. Again.
He told me to fuck off at some point in the night. I think it was right before he jumped out of a moving car trying to get to another bar and made Abby cry.
We had three bowls going. It was a tri-bowl tournament. Harry potter shit.
No, we got so into acting out our role play characters we didn't even fuck. still sucess.
And by "schedule" I meant crumbled up liquor store receipt, that I wrote shit on.
Hey... Tell me if you remember differently, but nobody truly saw me naked, right?
I just got fingered in the Win-Co parking lot for pills. How's your meltdown going?
I'm not finished with being a sloppy white girl alcoholic. I didn't postpone having a husband and kids for sober weekends.
I'm like a freaking volcano of life and sexual frustrations
my dad walked in on me peeing into the trashcan in our kitchen last night at like 2am. wtf
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