I don't really want to write this paper. It's the last one of the semester - I need to savor the feeling of procrastination.
Just called the bar: "hi this is the girl who you kicked out for excessive bleeding, do you happen to have my coat?"
He completely dissapeared at the baseball game. We found him passed out at the hotel three hours later with souviner photos of himself at the top of the Sears Tower.
The smoke alarm went off as soon as we opened the closet.
I'm about one sudden movement away from being able to cross "throw up in a fortune 100 company's bathroom" off my bucket list.
I love it. Like, more than my penis at the moment.
I can't thank you enough for the well-timed blowjob. What a huge improvement in my outlook on the day.
I know I come to this conclusion on a fairly regular basis but I really do need a babysitter
My manager just held my hair while I threw up in a dumpster. New low.
I am eating a king sized snickers in the strip club. Good morning.
I woke up this morning wearing his boxers as a shirt
You're just a heartbreaker with a knitting problem
You start to question your party girl tendencies when you're wearing the same shirt you wore the night before to work and you're trying to get last nights Jell-O shot off the sleeve on your way to work
His condition for us having sex was that I wore my show boots. #equestrianproblems
So I just accidentally joined a bar crawl and got a free shotski of Jameson. I love life.
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