So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
we went to sleep in different beds and woke up spooning. alcohol truly is the anti-cockblocker.
shes on the floor puking and texting simultaneously.
you know what its like when everyone is chanting "do it, do it"...still friends?
I'll be honest with you, my dick was out at that point in time.
Someone asked me why we were having sex on the porch last night. All I remember is him saying he wanted the recruits to see. This has got to stop.
At second job interview this week. Wearing pants to hide pole dancing bruises. This my life.
Witnessing a crazy lady on the bus screaming about how romney is one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.
If tits could talk, mine would be bragging
He told me I look like a librarian today. I hope that means he has a librarian fetish or something
Disregard. He says he said I look "agrarian" today and just proceeded to compare me to Mumford and Sons. Fuck it, I'm going home and drinking
At the ER. John needs stiches. Fuck pub trivia nights.
Is it completely inappropriate to base my morning after pill purchase on if they sell coffee or not?
Oh, don't mind me, that's just my vagina rattling.
Currently sifting through all the dick pics and nudes for a picture of my dad and I to post on social media for Father's Day...
If I ever say "I'm never drinking again" just hand me a bottle of jack. I'll snap out of it.
Randomize
