I have the worst wedgie. Seriously. Its horible. And there are people everywhere around me.
Slide your hand down the back of your pants and shift to the side slowly
...are you coming on to me?
At chipotle, there's a bachelorette party starting out the night here, i'm going to let you imagine what the bride to be looks like
I dont even clean my room anymore .. i drunk proof it for when i come back smashed with a guy
Pretty sure that Albanian broad gave me something last night. Now we play the waiting game.
Come over. Drunk tacos.
That isn't even a sentence.
I kept the important parts.
There was a photo of his face glued to a lifesize Kim Kardashian cutout. By the end of the night he was doing shots out of medicine cups and making everybody hug it goodbye.
I can feel the fear and stress bubbling in my stomach. Or maybe that is the pregnancy.
You know it's time to cut back when your unemployed drug dealer roommate tells you that you party too hard.
Don't forget: you only show your tits for the good beads. Be judicious.
Four times in one night? That Energizer bunny outfit lived up to the hype.
I bet the guy on the treadmill next to me with the noise-canceling headphones wishes he could trade them for smell-canceling noseplugs. Hard to believe that last one did not involve any pants-shitting on my part.
I'm trying to be all porn star and he's making it all The Notebook
My autobiography will be 500 pages of the words "I probably should've thought this through" typed over and over.
I look excited, but its just a facade.
So bottomless mimosas = me waking up in a truck bed in a random neighborhood with no purse or phone or idea how I got there.
Randomize