woke up this morning with a pool of champagne in my purse. apparently i was saving it for later.
We spent three hours cleaning our room this morning. It was spotless and smelling good. I come home from work tonight and she has already smoked weed in it and "accidently" spilled vodka on the floor.
He's spent his last 3 years working at Urban Outfitters. No, I'm not sad I missed out on a life of mustaches, the dollar menu and shitty scarves.
She said she wanted to have closure sex.
We made out for three hours. Then she said she didn't sleep with redheads and left the party. So yes, I'm still drinking.
He pretended my clit ring was a door knocker.
Every time you come over you bleed on everything. I'm not calling Verizon again asking if blood is considered water damage.
Do you ever feel like your dog agrees with you? Like REALLY really agrees.
You gave me your shirt to use as a napkin every time I spilled beer on myself. Before we went to the bar.
This is home. And home is where you find your family. And you try not to make out with your family.
My night started to turn around the time I started calling her a "raggedy cunt".
Somehow she got that I meant it as a term of endearment.
Tempted to tell the Titos promoters at this bar that they are doing the lords work.
I just noticed, at some point last night I got on iTunes and purchased over 100 classical piano songs.
But then our conversations are like black box recordings. Just the stuff you hear when the plane is going down
fuck st louis. fuck their hockey. fuck their basball. fuck their football if they still got it. fuck their tiddlywinks teamm. fuck their ribs. fuck their entire city. what im trying to say is i dont like st louis
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