I may or may not have started my period at the bar. Good thing I have dark jeans on.
I woke up this morning under my fitted sheet and my legs through the sleeves of my sweater.
My RA just tried to write me up for having sex too loudly during quiet hours.
You know what sound is wonderful for a hangover? Listening to the horns from the South Africans at the world cup
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She's gonna be fat in the future. On a side note I had a "It's not you, it's me." conversation with a bottle of jack last night.
If I am going to pay someone to make me puke, it's going to be the bartender.
He was like an artic tracker. Walked ten paces from the tree, then 15 paces from the mailbox, dug down in the snow, and pulled up the case of beer he hid from his parents out there. It tasted like ice cold success.
It's one of those nights that you wish to god someone would booty call you, and then realize you'll just be stuck here with your poptart...
My roommate took my designated hickey removing spoon out of the freezer.
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Turns out the bartender I fucked is the bar owner. WHY THE FUCK DO I PAY FOR HALF MY DRINKS? IS SEX NOT TIP ENOUGH?
and Katie got too high with the tow truck driver and wants to go home
The girl in line in front of me at the grocery store is buying wine, m&m minis, a toothbrush, and condoms. Is it inappropriate to high-five her?
Of course, it's a law of friendship. "Thy friend Shalt always hold hatred for thine friend's swinish ex"
No more bourbon. Sleep now. I may die. Pray for me.
Nothing like a dick pic from your fave ex to make you audibly exhale sadly.
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