I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
ohhh my god. this party should be titled "my hookups of summers past" be expecting some good stories tomorrow
ah. the first shower back home is like a baptism from the sins of the past year
Well I woke up with spatula marks on my ass and burns on my hands.
Things I had in my bed when I woke up: an avocado, a toilet brush, and a note that says thanks but no thanks with the number of taco bell on it. WHAT DID I DRINK?
I just saw a guy in a sombrero and holding an inflated blow-up doll in all her "glory" get escorted out of the mall. I hate Marley.
Like her Facebook page isn't even hers. It belongs to her tits. It's Titsbook
I realized after pounding back 151 and head banging into each other to "the drop" of that dub step song, that we weren't meant to have boyfriends at this point in time.
Just puke out the sadness. Like a fuckin dragon.
The cop actually kicked the bitches out of the cab so we could get ours. I flipped them all off as the door was shutting. That drunk.
I have an erection and I'm about to go through airport security.
someone just got arrested on campus...
holy fuck look at all that cocaine
His status said "sad." of course I liked it. I don't even care that I was the only one. Facebook isn't your god damn journal, we don't care about your problems.
These beer shits have taken over my entire life.
She didn't get a tit job, she's just wearing the right size bra for once
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