Dub. In the bra. Dub in the bra.
I just woke up to a lawnchair covered in lipstick. I'm wearing red lipstick. What happened and is the tequila?
the only reason I knew his name is because half way through I looked up and it was tatooed on his chest.
Having sex with her was like reading the Wall Street Journal.
Is it creepy to message a girl and say you had me at stocked liquor cabinet?
But don't worry I didn't actually get stitches, although according to the health center I probably should have
I guess birthday shots aren't always the answer
Called my dealer in tears and we talked for an hour until I felt better. That's the way it should be.
It was one of those "wake up holding a random metal flower" kind of nights.
You kept saying you we're gonna puke and wanted to steal my pants
That does not explain the remnants of a small fire in my bathtub.
...there was a woman in the stall next to me in the Walmart bathroom having a massive bowl movement and whispering "I'm sorry" over and over
Signs of a stoner: trying everything in your fridge topped with peanut butter to seek satisfaction.
Another beautiful Sunday, another beautiful day the stick is not positive. Amen.
I just want you to know when I bang him in the back of my car later I'll have pony by ginuwine on repeat
If walking through the neighborhood with a bottle of tequila and margarita mix is postgrad life, I'm okay with it
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