You should've come with us, we're at Home Depot looking for men.
Spotted: forty year old in red dress, cigarette in hand, squatting to pee by railroad tracks. Hello future.
He asked me if I "almost moaned"
I can't cum and do my makeup at the same time.
Jesus Christ, she just started playing Enya and is humming along to it. Way, way, way too hungover to deal with her shitty taste in music
on the list of things i learned today that are not stripper poles: ex-boyfriends, table legs, and police officers.
Was it high me or sober me who put those Jolly Rancher sticks in the freezer? I'd be soooo impressed if it was high me.
I don't remember much of half-time. I do remember climbing onto the roof of the fraternity and telling people I was going to stargaze in French.
My hickies are dark enough that I can feel drivers judging me from across an intersection
I brought a guy home then decided no. Took him back to the bar and said "I'm going to drop you where I found you. Have fun"
4:37 am. You're wearing underwear and carpet skates. Borderline crying. You want to punch Morgan. Have not stopped singing Give Your Heart a Break.
All i hear is "BITCH BETTER HAVE MY HONEY" and i turn around and there is a dude in a bear costume. It was fur real.
You asked me if I was judging you for being drunk, and if I can hypnotize you make sober.
Please tell me you did not shit your Disney princess costume.
So you can now add nose to my list of places that cum has gone that it shouldn't...
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