yeah so this exboyfriend of yours reckons you're still together and he punched me in the face cos i slept with you last week. you might wanna have a word with him or at a minimum change your facebook status.
my underwear are soaked with white zifandel yet i have continued to wear them despite the fact im at home
If my nicknames are based on what I throw up, you can call me Jimmy Johns
i was the DD for the swedish students tonight. Got paid 23 dollars for driving 10 miles. gotta love ignorance and the confusion conversion brings.
It's hard for me to sext him when the picture i see on my phone when he texts me is his facebook default of him and his girlfriend.
i remember too much of last night for it to have been successful
I had something called a trashcan. Never again. I almost fucked chewbacca.
She fuckin peed on me
Stay golden ponyboy
Hindsight is 20/20. Or a bladder infection.
U have to come, I miss the sound of you throwing up.
I've started a list of places i want to drink. To go along with the list of places i want to have sex. Lincoln's log cabin is on both.
I'm just gonna clean the house so my Mom won't think I'm hung over. I'll just start with the toilet
FOUND: my underwear in the cabinet above the toilet. What the actual fuck.
I need a fucking roommate.
You need a fucking babysitter.
The fact that a spice girls song is stuck in my head is a great sign that my decisions aren't the right ones at the moment...
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