There's nothing like puking in the airport on the way TO Vegas. Something tells me i pregamed a little too hard.
I can't believe we had "50th anniversary of man in space" sex.
Drunk you is everything I aspire to be in life.
I don't know what he did to me, but he did it wrong. I think my pelvis is broken. I cant even drive without it hurting. What. The. Fuck.
Of course it was necessary for me to call the strip club and ask what their shower policy is. Smelled like she was wiping her ass with my eyebrows during that dollar dance.
I just face planted on a condom wrapper in my bed...thought of you.
You're so romantic.
My liver and my bank account can't afford another all nighter. Help.
Oh, also as a concerning side note, my bra had drops of blood on it. So I don't know what the deal was, but someone I was around was definitely bleeding a decent amount.
Opened the browser on my phone to a web search for midget birth rates per capita. A good night.
There is maybe 10 hours out of any given day we aren't sober.
So like if I threw up in my purse is that "don't ever show your face in public again" worthy or just slightly frowned upon
I caught myself caressing my own hand while nurturing a glass of bourbon. I think it's time to get back out there.
Tell him to put up or shut up. Can't be dangling dick in front of ho's without delivering.
It's just disrespectful
my morning attempts to try to have sex with him was interrupted by the passion of the christ parade going on outside my house
Mimosas make me so tired. I just ordered a huge thing of pasta and gonna eat it in my underwear like a bad bitch
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