hey its robert, we just made out in the backyeard. i'm inside now and you should come to the bathroom and meet me.
alone in the kitchen at 4 am eating a hotdog.
how did we ever eat at restaurants where they DIDNT squirt-gun tequila in our mouths?
i wrote her a fucking poem. i better get laid for that
Got drunk. Then they sung "we didnt start the fire" to my other cousin who accidentally burnt down the house when she was younger.
This is the way my sobriety ends: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
Just suggested things for my dad to get my mom for Christmas in terms of "yeah you'll get laid."
2000 dollars has been put in for bail money. Also we're signing contracts
I'm hungry
Come here to eat and play. It'll be like Dave and Busters except with sex
Fun fact: I don't want to be an actual functioning adult because why
It is officially settled in my mind that fuck the hot grad student is THE goal this year
I knew he was a classy dude because when I told him my name was Jen he said "Gin? Like Gin & Juice?"
He wrote his entire dissertation last night. I can only imagine the frightening amount of headway he would make if he ever did things sober.
All I remember is an overwhelming desire for chicken nuggets...
Yes, you pinned my brother to the floor by the throat and threatened to slaughter his family if he didn't drive to mcdonalds and get you some.
There's wax on my nightstand, my sheets look like Christmas, and my vagina feels like it got into a fight. All signs of a good night
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