The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
i scrubbed and i scrubbed and i scrubbed and i still was a whore
I called the bar to ask if they found my Id and credit card and they remembered me as 'the girl who signed her receipt in blood'
i feel like im playing gay clue. i have to figure out where i am, who took me home, and what he put in me
this girl with a french braid down the center of her head won't stop talking about the benefits of the free market. i'm hungover, bloated and haven't slept for 4 days. shut up french braid girl, shut up.
the last thing i remember is inserting the sippy stray into the jack daniel's.
Pre-game strategy: play thunder by yourself in the shower. Surprisingly, success.
It was a sobriety test blowjob. If he could get it up, he could get me home.
I just passed a truck with its bed lined with a tarp and filled with water with six dudes chilling in the back driving through campus. That looks fun.
I'm drunk in a place called Lick-A-Chick. PS. It's not a lesbian hot spot, they sell chicken.
I have just found the cubicle of sustenance. And I will rejoice at all the families that have not found this magic. This vodka cubicle of magic.
Oh, in response to your "does dating get better" question...I feel like penises are getting smaller nowadays. Its been several years since I saw a good 8+ incher.
I tried to order dominos and couldn't but I accidentally placed an order for this morning. I knew I did it last night and was gonna call and cancel this morning but honestly it's coming in 30 minutes and I need it
In case you were wondering I realized something last night, Rick James was correct. Cocaine is a hell of a drug.
I guess daylight savings isn't a holiday we need to celebrate for three days...
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