Drunk x Brooklyn = problems getting home. If I don't make it you can have my computer and my bitches. You're welcome.
brass monkey on radio. cant stop dancing.
Been at work for four hours and just discovered the chairs in my office double as a napping surface. Most productive thing I've done all day
I showed remarkable dignity in such a compromising situation. Except I came off as sort of a blue ball giver.
It's a long way off yet but I've started planning my eviction party. Be prepared, it includes jungle juice.
Some guy wearing a horse mask just knocked on my door and started whinnying. I opened the door and he was like, "...oh sorry, wrong room..." so awk.
My mom has finally acknowledged my soft spot for Russians. Finally.
Porn. Physics. Porn. Icecream. Porn. That's my life now.
I'll remember. Also, I owe you 200 for a pair of shoes that I carelessly bought to improve my spinal structure, to improve my health and ensure that I love to be 300 years old. Like Adam. Of the bible.
In the pie chart of my life, she is a huge part of why I drink.
When you left the bar, you did two cartwheels and a heel click and RAN ALL THE WAY HOME.
You know you're an upperclassmen when you go to a party with no makeup, wet hair, weed socks, and no shoes, take a shot ski, then leave
Just an fyi, you also tried to wrangle a peacock last night.
I kept screaming at his rabbit: "IT'S OKAY, YOU CAN HAVE SOME TRIX. FUCK THOSE SELFISH BITCHES."
i dunno but you just looked at him said "youre making me really wet" and straight pissed your pants
Randomize
