The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
WE WERE REALLY IN A PORNO LAST NIGHT
Apparently throwing up on your own cape is still a party foul
Def ran into my elementary school babysitter at the grocery store. Still hot. And she complimented my beer choice. It feels good to still have her approval
He was handing out home-made business cards that read "finger slamming bitches since 1986"\n
I have a kicked-out-of-multiple-bars level hangover today
When we were texting for those few weeks, I some how established a crush on you. And its weird and wild and stupid and silly. But these things just have to be said sometimes to determine what's real and what is infatuation. And to suffer the consequences of five am drunk philosophy. No regrets.
Blocking me on Facebook doesn't change the fact that you've had my penis in my mouth. So there's that.
It's funny because every time I go up and down the stairs it's an adventure. A A DRUNK ADVENTURE. PS I ALREADY THREW UP WTF
Yeah if I don't text back. I'm eating. sleeping. Or lifting. Or drinking. Or playing call of duty. Like shit man
Also there's so much vodka on my breath that if I blew on my fingers my nail polish would fall right off
He sent me a dick pic for every page I had to write for final papers (87) & brought me adderall. Tell me that isn't romance.
It was extremely weird and uncomfortable mid blow job she looks up and says " tell me Simon Cowell makes your dick hard"
I was told I was gorgeous and a whore by the drag queens. My night is complete.
We saw the mini basketball hoop and unicycle and just knew we had to create a new sport
Drunk minds think alike
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