I woke up this morning under my fitted sheet and my legs through the sleeves of my sweater.
No one even knew you were hurt until we saw the multiple cuts to prove it, and when we asked what happened all you could say was "I fell out"
I was still in a towel. We hadn't even started drinking yet and the champagne bottle dropped and exploded literally up into my vagina.
but I'll probably watch some porn later so it's not a complete waste of a Saturday night.
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So as I left the Australian's hotel room, I said "Welcome to America. You're going to do just fine here."
I was mid hand job and stopped me because he wanted to "connect" which meant putting his thumb in between my eyebrows and a hand over my heart and closing our eyes...
Bless her heart. Her stupid, drunk, adderall-ed heart.
she's sitting there like the lesbian godfather. A cigarette in one hand and a titty in the other.
well at least now you can say you got an STD from the frontman of a band no one's heard of
fuck you.
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The whole bar erupted and in happiness and confusion as I went on about pancakes.
I can recall having this conversation with a three year old, but go on
Other than trying to finger me on the couch in the middle of the bar a few times, you were fine.
Cocaine and dance dance revolution for 4 hours. I consider last night a success.
You start to question your party girl tendencies when you're wearing the same shirt you wore the night before to work and you're trying to get last nights Jell-O shot off the sleeve on your way to work
bitch, i have a flask. i've got things under control.
god. marry me.
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