I can't ever handle being "that girl" again. At least not until next semester.
I woke up this morning really drunk with my Christmas lights on and two owls in my bed.
I found him crying and drunk, in my closet holding a picture of Tyler Perry. He managed to say"he's just so many people"
I'm still not completely convinced I'm not pregnant. I just dipped beef jerky in cream cheese frosting.
sooo... you have no idea who nailed their tubesocks to my wall?
Too much alcohol and too many lesbians. I can officially say I have regrets now. At least that's something.
Everything was going great until my fake mustache fell off when we started making out.
We 6 way cheers-ed with French fries last night, hammered, in the booth.
If we could give a gymnastic score to drunken nights, I would be a part of the Fab Five.
I'm so confused as to where the sexual euphemisms end and the drinking starts
He even wore it to bed. What the hell. He's too excited about that goddamn costume.
I'm sad that I feel like I need to temporarily change your name in my phone from Smashley until you have the baby and can be unsober with us again.
Weird thing is that's not the first time I've been felt up by a Santa. Happens every year
apparently when we were gone the parents play strip connect 4
I know you’re not my dad, but you’re someone’s dad. You’re also like a second dad to me as well. And one who I send nudes to as well. Happy Father’s Day
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