hey what are you doing
hooking up with some marlborough girl. shes gorgeous!
i texted you because i like you, and i told my freinds you were my fiance. but sine we're not dating you're not cheating and i'm pathetic
think i got pink eye from a stripper in vegas. showgirls did not prepare me adequately for this. be kind, 2010.
i woke up in the lobby of Holiday Inn on a chair sitting up straight
Sunburnt clitoris. How do I deal with it.
he rolled over in his sleep, called me a hoe and then grabbed my crotch. some things never change, asleep or not.
Thru out the entire phone conversation I went from thinking: he's making a gay come-on, to he's trying to sell me drugs, before realizing he was offering me a job with an internet company. Things are gonna be awkward in class this week.
I remember pointing out how smooth my legs were to try to direct his attention away from my vagina.
We just threw our carpet out of our room. Via fourth floor window style.
The only thing I remember is doing a toddlers and tiaras dance routine onstage. I fucking CURTSIED.
OMG stop. Pretty feet? Sparkle baby!
Plan: drunk dancing. Reality: drunk almost getting in fights with people that could beat me into the ground.
I haven't been this unsober in a long time. I feel like I am observing myself. Like I am a test subject for alcohol. I wish my brain would shut up and let me be a normal drunk.
I just found a voice recording from Tanya's bachelorette party when we found you drunk in downtown being harassed by a crazy dude dressed like a clown and we rescued you. Attached is a voice recording of me interviewing you after we found you. I titled it Carlos Batman.
Way to go. Now you have no beer and I have a cold tit.
I asked him to sing a song so he couldn't hear me throwing up as he was holding my hair
I want to have sex with Will Smith. I guess I have a thing with 90s sitcom stars. Stamos, Joey Lawrence, John Goodman.
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