lesson #67 learned in college: a three day old margarita, is still a margarita.
I don't even remember his name...i'm just gonna save it as birthday sex
I'm gonna need you to NOT let me play duck duck goose with three racoons in the middle of the street next time.
At least drunk me was smart enough to stash toilet paper in my bag before I started my walk home. Finally countless squat pees and wiping with grass taught me to be prepared.
Currently microwaving whipped cream to make white Russians and hotboxing the kitchen while this random kid is dancing in the corner.
Ok, it is technically a gay bar but it's a total dive w/ strong drinks. The important thing is you can start drinking at 11:00 am without judgement
oh oh oh, and apparently you can bring in your own snacks. Some old dude just gave me cashews and cheetos.
spotted: something called the tunnel of opression. i feel like if we patricipated we wouldnt even be phased or we could run it better than them
I whipped my shit out and she just stared at it with a mean face. It was like a face off in a heavyweight boxing fight.
I've been wearing the same clothes for 3 days and they're covered in franzia
What's more sad than going to Target to buy Plan B and the new Sam Smith album?
Also I told several people at the bar last night that my dad the alligator wrestler died wrestling an alligator. So if anyone asks that's real.
he just fluffed my hair and told me I had to dance with him because we were both gingers.
Fly, little bird! Repopulate the ginger race!
I'm very impressed by your ability to explain a story about your fiery snatch solely in emojis. props.
There's a potato with a bite taken out of it in the kitchen
I just convinced a telemarketer I live in a tree.
What did he say?
He still asked if I want a home security system.
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