I may or may not be drunk driving a golf cart. Vegaaaassssssss.
My mom made me write an apology letter to all my family for hijacking the eggnog.
So... on the count of three, we are going to forget last night ever happened... 1...2...3
St Patricks Day is not the day you decide to have a sober epiphany.
Uhh, there's a legit bruise on my boob.. Again how does he manage this
French people screaming and throwing stuff out the window. We told the manager and he's pissed and going up there. This is gonna be like cops. Maybe better than cops.
Hardly remember what he looks like and the man has seen me passed out spread eagle. I begin this journey with such a disadvantage.
You screamed "she never feeds them anyway" and threw the fish tank off the 3rd floor balcony. Don't park on our side of the building.
So the crazy cock blocking bitch sent her a picture of her boobs using MY phone and said: he's busy at the moment
I threw up in a mitten on my drive home. Wow.
The worst thing about him living around the corner is that who ever suggests the booty call is the one that walks over.
It's days like today, when my bra and underwear match, that make me feel like I'm getting my life together...
I'm actually kind of scared about the prospect of us living together. We're just going to eat pizza and drink wine before retiring to our rooms with vibrators
Nothing has ever been more true. Ever.
I just watched my mom pour beer into her vodka and drink it.
I dropped my pants and she just stared until she asked how is that even possible? Best night ever lmao
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