Last night is one of those stories you hear about on 20/20 right after they make a law banning 90% if what I did.
I had 4 margarita's and 2 mixed drinks and i blew zero's. Its a cinco de mayo miracle.
Its 6am and I'm sitting on the couch watching Clifford. Crying into my risotto because emily elizabeth helped the girl in the wheelchair get over her stagefright so she can win a trophy. Never drinking alone again.
rumor has it I kept asking you to go to the "tall grass" with me...sorry about that.
THIS NIGHT WILL NOT GO DICKLESS
Well I have rug burns in both armpits, somehow. So yes you should have been here
I knew it was a bad night when the only thing I could remember was you force feeding me tortilla chips as I hugged the tire of my car and begged to have my stomach pumped.
"I'm looking more at his dick bulge." Never thought I'd hear those words come out of my boyfriend's mouth.
YOU GAVE HIM A BLOWJOB ON YOUR DOORSTEP?!
He offered to let her do a line of coke off his hard-on. She said she'd had that hard-on and it would be a bump, not a line. Everyone laughed. That's why he left.
So that answers the first question but not the second: how the fuck am I getting home?
My day went from bad to worse when I realized I puked out my second floor window last night.
He's actually really cute and seems like a good guy. And given that he likes lots of drugs, he could come in handy.
Can't we just go back to fucking and having your boyfriend think you're completely straight?
You whispered 'For Frodo', handed me your shirt, and charged campus security.
I need to leave my mind and my stupid vagina are having fight over who's right
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