My Hamptons summer hookup resume reads like a walk-in clinic waiting list.
The question of "Will I eat a piece of curried chicken off the floor?" has been answered tonight.
I'm not sure...it could be the pasta I ate from her sink, the dominoes, or just the alcohol. Or a wicked combination of all 3.
Maybe it's just my body's way of telling me I don't need pinky toes. Like I'm the next evolutionary leap or something...
Faking my way through an entire party as a British exchange student. Wish me luck.
The bottle of Jameson may have been a bit aggressive for a Sunday cookout.
You ruined me. I can't stop referring to everything outside as the "no-walls" ever since you showed me that video while I was tripping balls. My speech may be permanently altered for the rest of earth spins
I feel like I've asked you "are you okay?" one too many times in the last 48 hours. You're hopeless.
I've been here 20 minutes and a sweaty naked man has kissed me on the cheek.
One of my life goals was never to see an uncircumcised dick. I guess that's out the window now.
I threw up a lot of peanut butter last night.
Drunk me has cost me a lot in cell phones...
Okay first of all fuck you and everything you stand for because Taco Bell is amazing.
OMG I DIDNT READ THAT TEXT CAREFULLY CAUSE I'M ON THE DEVILS LETTUCE & I THREATENED TO PUNCH A CHILD OMG I'M SO SORRY
I'm covered in jizz and the toll booth lady knew it
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