Tell your broad to take a big shot of 'chill the fuck out' and put it on my tab.
i hate having sex with him only a few drinks in. i like it better when i cant remember the gory details.
Life lesson #57: drinking whisky out of apples leads to threesomes.
I just tried to light a cigarette with a tube of lipstick. If I had stayed in girl scouts maybe I could've made that happen.
I'm returning our mountain of beer cans, while wearing a Budweiser sweatshirt. i don't look like an alcoholic.
I was totally going to sleep with him, until he got naked and started swinging around his boner singing "I'm so hard. oh yeah yeah yeah, I'm so hard" like Rihanna.
there's a wings menu taped to my wall. don't tell me i don't have my priorities straight.
i just got drunk dialed and its 10am. clearly finals are over.
We're playing fucking games. GAMES. THIS IS BULL SHIT. IM GOING TO THROW UP ON THE BABIES AND LEAVE.
Apparently from about 3-5AM I was consoling that crying stripper about her life choices.
After my mom met Tanner, she literally turned and said "he's from old money, top of his class at Emory, already has doctors courting him for jobs and judging from your vocal performance the other night, he's gifted in bed. Fake a pregnancy right now"
I come from her. Holy hell.
All I know is that I woke up with my pajamas on inside out in front of a bowl of watered down kd. Sitting up. I didn't even make it to bed.
come home. i made deep-fried hotdogs; don't let me die alone.
I just found a piece of squished oatmeal cream pie in my armpit. So very sad.
That's pretty intense. There aren't many people I would pick over a burrito
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