i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
i threw up in his kitchen sink and then used a measuring cup to drink water because i couldn't find a clean glass. i just threw up down the stairs. it's gonna be a long walk home.
The only way im leaving this casino is in a golden chariot or an ambulance
she went apple picking. why dont we do cute things like that? let's go to a pumpkin patch!
because we're not cute. we're sluts. and sluts don't go apple picking.
I just want to point out that nothing makes my hickie/hangover more obvious than sleeping in a scarf and sunglasses. nothing.
oh my god. separately texting an Allie and an Ally while drunk is hard, and I'm climbed 1/2 way up a bridge pier.
I just saw the Mona Lisa in the background of a porno. Whole new appreciation for art. fuck you I'm cultured.
My night ended with Em alternately crying and throwing up in the arms of a guy wearing a cutoff and a tiara. I sat holding a garbage can and wine glass full of water wondering how our night got to this point.
Fuck. I have to get my shit together by lunch. Mission impossible.
God I need to stop before there's a picture of my dick on my mom's phone.
I am naked in a blanket sprawled on my bed eating a pastry. This is all I want out of life. Ever.
Aw don't be embarrassed. It was all good fun! We've all been there. You can't come to vegas and NOT get a little alcohol poisoning. That's like going to church and not praying.
You tried to steal my pants at 3am saying they were yours and somebody was gonna die, not cool dude
Plan before tomorrows interview: wash off green glitter from EVERYWHERE!!!
Yeah that was post sex. I was thinking in my mind, no wonder he didnt ask me to call him daddy since he actually is a dad
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