Tonight, I'm planning on being a bigger trainwreck than Britney Spears circa 2007.
Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
So baked. Thought the twigs on the sidewalk were caterpillars with the ability to harden in self defense. Had to pick one up to be sure.
I know I'm not learning anything when I can't even spell the name of the class I'm taking
Maybe the downfall to liking really smart guys is that they're to smart to think about sex all the time.
Drank a fosters this weekend and last weekend. Listening to down under 5 times a day. Spent 100 dollars on a sleeveless men at work shirt circa 1983. We don't leave for another 5 weeks. I call it pregaming.
she's sitting in the bathroom of SA telling people to come in for a toilet ride
I made a bet with her that she would show me her tits if I finished my beer. Only on spring break.
He just subscribed to one of my Spotify playlists. The next step is sex.
I'm sure we could go all project runway on our diapers and create some flattering absorbent thongs. We could do it on the Boat. Call it project rumway.
The other day, he sent me a snapchat of his dick in the forest. He captioned it "nature nudes."
Like don't initiate a threesome when we're all watching SPONGEBOB. That's like sacrilege.
Apparently I thanked the paramedics over and over again for saving the "happy new year" beads that I was wearing
if he becomes president of the united states, I will tell EVERYONE that i took his virginity.
So bottomless mimosas = me waking up in a truck bed in a random neighborhood with no purse or phone or idea how I got there.
Randomize
