I found your twin in sf. His name is ryan. And you are the evil one.
too bad being hungover isnt a job. just threw up from 9am to 5pm
I replied to the university automated mass text about the armed robbery at the on-campus Starbucks with a sad face. Basically sums up my night.
At the hospital, the nurse kept telling me that i either had appendicitis, a tubular pregnancy, or an ovarian cyst. I kept asking if i could just have chlamydia instead...
I love my roommate; her alcohol problem, her proclivity for passing out on the living room couch, and her fucking awesome size d tits that can never remain clothed. Craigslist jackpot.
We used the solo cup bag for her hair tie. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I hate cuddling. I also hate when people breathe. Which he did, a lot. So he can go to hell.
He's moaning and crying and coughing up something audibly liquid. I can't live in this house any more.
First you say "it can't get any worse" and the next thing you know you've shat yourself on Christmas Eve.
Drunk me obviously wants to fuck up my life
It's like I have an arch nemesis, and it's me
Looks better than the half a blow job I got the other night which I had to finish myself. From a chick I refer to simply as "mom jeans".
You spilt a drink on my couch, then used my dog to mop it up... you called her a mop dog, repeatedly
You sending me our unborn, unfertilized babies' names is not what I envisioned when you said you'd "drunk text me later".
I should probably apologize for licking you last night since you drove me home, but I stand by my decision
We were playing fuck marry kill and he was eavesdropping so I said I would fuck him
It was like catching dick in a barrel
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