i'm sure god appreciates how great my boobs look during this fine christmas eve mass
I am so 35 right now. Listening to REM, drinking red wine, and crying over an article about ecstasy in oprah magazine.
We don't need a hotel, we'll just sleep in the post office.
There were 11 girls in that minivan and everyone was either puking, crying, or yelling "we're a total shit show"
Drunk on Tuesday. Double fisting. Mmmbop is playing. Only girl in the group. Life is complete.
Send me the picture of my mugshot, my boss got arrested last night and I'm trying to make her feel better.
I woke up on the toilet with my feet gorilla glued to the floor, cake and makeup on my face and my hand glued to my head.
Welcome to the world of vodka. Rule #1: NEVER PASS OUT. Happy 21st
Oh man, buzzed lunch fridays almost got out of hand.
So I've been thinking about this, and I've decided my bed is magic. Every time I change the sheets, a new boy is in my bed. I own the Sheets of Dreams-if I change them, they will come.
At this point, if I'm not getting fucked by a man in ONLY cowboy boots, it's not worth it.
I have the WORST cramps EVER. I think this is gods way of saying 'you're welcome, last warning. stop being a slut.'
as much as I don't like snorting drugs, I would totally be fine with someone doing a line off my ass. that's just a whole new up
How are you feeling this morning?
Well, I just found day old puke in my bra, so I've been better.
I was covered in mud from my knees down, I smelt like the inside of a port-a-potty and only had mascara on one eye. . . so you know your usual Sunday brunch.
so my parents definitely heard me when I was cumming last night...
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