Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
he just tried to lick my eyebrow. thats the deal breaker.
i havent thrown up in four monthes, im clearly not drinking enough
Dont have access to internet. masturbating to shake weight commercial.
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not sure how we got back down, broken rib says we didn't use stairs
No worries you cant actually turn into a wine snob if you brew it in your closet....
the caf people were giving us weird looks and she yelled ITS A LIFE STYLE
In all seriousness, if tomorrow night becomes a heated game of Which Ex Gets To Take The Plastered Birthday Girl Home, I'm going to bow out with my integrity intact.
I've been ignoring his texts cause last night I put him in my phone as 'ignore for atleast a day' and I trust my drunk self.
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YOU WERE HAVING SEX IN THE SAME BED I WAS SLEEPING IN. AND YOU GRABBED MY HAIR. OF COURSE I'M PISSED.
I woke up this morning to find a stuffed animal submerged in the toilet. I'm not entirely sure if it was the cat or Kara.
So much rum. So many feels.
well that's what you get for sleeping with a guy called 'the defiler'
In Punta Cana for my bachelor trip, hopefully tomorrow my passport is blacklisted
He also needs to focus on not being such a little bitch, but that's none of my business.