Any day that starts with a call from my ex-bf... crying... is a good day.
she was laying naked in the stream looking for "ribbays", which is apparently drunk for frogs.
They are currently going door-to-door asking the neighbors to donate money for Cheez-Its and gift wrap. They asked me to stay back at the house to make another pitcher of margaritas.
I left him a voicemail saying i went through with the abortion and he texts me back one thing... the bbm "phew" face. really?
she showed up with nothing but olive garden breadsticks in her purse.
This is great- I found hangover detoxifying bath salt online. It flushes out the alcohol. We need this.
I'm a lady, I can't pee on the ceiling. Even I don't have that power.
does the girl puking in my garbage belong to you?
The last text I sent him was about nachos. Frankly, if he can't respond positively to that he can fuck off...
Two ladies just showed up with my fucking purse. It was in the fucking street. I'm a train wreck. As a financial advisor, this shouldn't happen. I should be an adult.
I have bruises all over my body. Seriously, I'm a train wreck. I'm too damn old for hangovers like this.
I have an epic ass bruise from a wheel tonight and I am drunk now because I decided vodka heals all wounds.
It hurts to hear and I can smell shapes.
I know he’s a bad decision but he's casual, his penis is amazing and his technique is on point.
I've had to take two showers today and it's not even 1 o'clock. Why won't this weekend wash off?
I often worry that if I get famous, people from my past will recognize me and start talking to the media
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