they ran out of cups so I just drank out of a cowbell.
Their flight hasn't even left yet and the 'buy food to keep yourself alive' budget is gone on tequila.
I can't really talk right now. I'm getting on a plane to Oregon to go give a guy a bj. I'll see you in three days.
Shots and making dong molds for my gf's friends. Typical Monday night activities.
I'm so pissed my boobs hit the emergency stop button during my workout
I sat on the ground outside wawa chain smoking and telling two strangers about my sex life. I also accepted Rick James Bitch and Celine Dion as their names.
Last night after the bar I went home and ate a pulled pork sandwich in a bubble bath
pain. pain everywhere. this is why throwing yourself at concrete is a bad idea.
She was trying to drink out of the beer bong and she thought it didn't work. Little did she know there was no beer in there. Then she got mad at us. Girls.
I passed out and slept in my car. Now I feel like a hungover zoo animal. Look and laugh people, look and laugh.
I'm chatting on my fake OkCupid account and watching Lion Witch & Wardrobe on my second screen. Hail me, King of the Creepers
I just hope I don't wheeze during sex
Is it bad that I want a job purely so I can buy drugs with without feeling like I am sacrificing my future?
Why do you think I have a job?
I feel like I got hit by a truck. And I vaguely remember getting into an argument with a passive aggressive Ron Burgundy in a onesie- grown man, not a baby- about the pronunciation of New Orleans
You don't need yoga. You need a boyfriend! Trust me I've become all sorts of flexible this past year.
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