just walked out of chelsea's house and saw cameron slapping his dick against her car. cant even make this shit up if i tried.
Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
So Ive decided I have serious issues. Im walking around the school with a bag labeled booze money collecting from people while slightly hungover at 8:20 in the morning, and nobody is questioning me.
So they discontinued the hummer... Now people will have to go door to door to let others know they're assholes
I feel like tequila heightens the sense of my nipples.
I remember pointing out how smooth my legs were to try to direct his attention away from my vagina.
He asked me "did you used to go to church" while we were having sex.
I'm smoking a bowl and pondering why we haven't discovered teleportation again.
Let's be honest, your relationships fail because the man you're looking for is the equivalent of an intellectual blow-up doll.
He took a picture with a naked dude. I think he just walked out of that deep ginger closet.
I'm dressed in all sequins still at 9:30 in the morning and the worst part is that I actually still fit in in Vegas
I or someone else dumped a lot of glitter into my boobs last night.
I may not have my dignity, pride or sanity but I have my pants.
You can say goodbye to our security deposit.
Already? What he do?
Opened a bag of topsoil at the party and spread it all over the living room. TOPSOIL!
I didn't realize how hungover I was until I fell asleep in my math lecture, and woke up I'm my history class. How is got there still remains a mystery...
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