You ended at least 6 stories with "and that's why I don't snort coke anymore"
If I knew losing weight would mean this many fucking creepers I would've just stayed fat.
You're surprisingly coherent for someone who thinks her couch is breathing.
You insisted on drinking champagne out of the dog bowl
No flamethrowers. That is a direct order.
I just want to do a slip-and-slide into a giant pool of jello shots right now.
A total of 95 cents was stuck to my ass the next morning.
My makeup looks extraordinary for nine tequila shots, running four blocks, falling asleep with my face in the toilet, and doing the walk of shame across campus in the rain. And to think I'm single.
All I really remember is thinking that the music looked like beautiful lizard waves in my head
Had a dream I beat up niall then madeout with him while snorting coke out of a dragons egg
I would love a rich wife. Then I would be like a gym teacher or some shit. Bigfoot hunter maybe.
It feels like the devil is humping my brain with his razor sharp erection.
He wrote me a Haiku titled, "Let me touch your butt".
Man, it's really obvious that I was either handcuffed or tied up last night. Either way, not something you'd want coworkers knowing.
It's official. I have spent more money on weed than on textbooks this semester.
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