the recession has oofficially hit my standards.
its not stalking. its research.
Her best guy friend really had a thing for her all along.... Now we're back together and he's gone Dawson's Creek with his away messages.
It feels like Jesus smacked me in the face with the new testament for drinking so much last night
he turned the pretty ricky playlist on. its about to go down.
How could you not be happy? Its like "and then I found 5 dollars" but "and then I found a handle of vodka"
Just so we're clear. I'm still making jello shots and bringing them to the bar in my purse. I don't care if its half off margaritas. Don't want anyone thirsty
Charles Darwin would shit his pants if he saw that we managed to survive that weekend.
A man just poked my foot with his crutches while I'm shitting. Is that how the disabled gays ask for a glory hole blow jay?
And as cleavage season comes to a close, so blooms a new season of yoga pants. And the people rejoiced.
Come over. I've made 2 dinners and so many cocktails. I'm a 50's housewife with no family.
I could see myself being this awkward weirdo drunk girl that patted strangers and danced terribly but was powerless to stop it
I'm so excited you texted me but I'm way to high to process it
You can't honestly expect me to maintain an erection when you have the Glen Beck show on
gin. gin. Gin. GIN GIN GINGINFFdJH
Randomize
