my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
The bar I'm at just passed out smores to everyone. I don't know what it has to do with cinco de mayo but I'm down.
I told him i wanted to be exclusively cheating with him
he called AT&T to make sure that he had insurance before he threw his cell phone into the fountain.
Roommate is eating a chimichanga, watching Dr Doolittle 2 and weeping. His Tuesday hangovers make me feel better about my life.
I am way too attached to fictional lesbians.
I bruised my vagina when I was climbing out of the trash can.
You called to teach me about fire safety, meowed a whole bunch, said "I hope you are not on fire" and hung up.
Dude. It's not even nine. I don't know yet.
Drink number four. Don't even tell me about its not even nine
He just showed up on my porch naked with just a blanket and a trash bag
I just had sex in the footy bunny pajamas my mom bought me for christmas. Tis the season
I just want to have sex and eat dumplings. Is that so much to ask?
If you send me one more .gif of that fumble, I will make the 10 hour drive just to set you on fire.
Dude just saw some some guy puke out of a car window on the highway going to school.
I don't know who's idea it was to get wine for a frat party but my poor pitiful hung over self really fucking hates them.
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