It's pouring out. I am cold, wet, and miserable.... Kind of reminds me of our sleepover last night.
Apparently you walked through my house with your dress on your head
just survived the first fart of the relationship.
I just want to know how you cleaned her puke off the twister mat with no gloves. And didn't throw up
All the walks of shame were condensed into the hour before parents started showing up. Move out day is so bittersweet
He is juggling broken glass botttles, I think its time to cut him off...
Apparently my face was in the trashcan and in between throw ups I was screaming LOS DIABLOS. I woke up this morning with a bird flying around my room. Nobody seems as concerned as I am.
We are planning a drunk snapchat treasure hunt for tomorrow, and the treasure is his penis, this is a game I'm not willing to loose.
It doesn't feel like real life when you open your hotel room door and the first person you see is wearing a rabbit costume. I'm too hungover for this.
The only word that describes how much hair I shaved off of my ass is "considerable".
My trash can accurately represents my weekend: Bojangles wrappers and magnums.
I feel bad for her. If you sacrifice and have a chubby husband I feel that you assume he's not going to cheat on you....
Tis the season to play Pocahontas! (AKA: Eat a bunch of acid and run around the yard barefoot, the first person to see the colors of the wind, wins!)
He kept saying "Ayyyyyyy" during foreplay... during sex.... during everything! It felt like I was having sex with friggin Fonzie from Happy Days!
was having sex but got distracted... he instragramed a pic of his crotch
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