Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
I wish everyone could be as happy as the people in the laxative commercials.
oh good. ive just found out that i went downstairs at 6 am still blacked out and had a 30 minute conversation with my mom about the different ways to feed our dog
Mass texted booty calls to all the guys I've hooked up with this year to commemorate the end of the semester.
Bought two parrots for us. I'm keeping them at the Bellagio.
Good news. Hiccups are gone. Bad news. I had to set the bathroom rug on fire to get rid of them. Don't come home until the fire truck leaves.
Whoa, I am aware of WAY too many squirrels right now...
Is your gma going to be okay with me passed out drunk on the ground
Like I'm sorry but "it'll be fine trust me" IS NOT VERY REASSURING ASSHAT. Now take off your pants.
All I know is when I checked my phone this morning google translate was open with "help the cow ate my robot" translated to French
Hooked up with a guy that looked like Dean Thomas. Mediocre at best, but I stopped myself from calling him Dean in bed. So I got that going for me.
I just shotgunned a beer and my lipstic didnt BUDGE. MERICUHH
You'll never fully grasp an awkward walk of shame until you run into his mom while you're trying to sneak out. Then to make matters worse you have to ask her to mover car because it's blocking you in.
and I lost my effing shirt.
You can't hold me to anything I said last night; I was drunk on orgasms.
she gave me a ride on the back of her motor scooter and i swooned so hard
omg it's like all of your grease 2 fantasies come true i'm so happy for you
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