My relationship with VH1 is so bittersweet
i don't even specifically remember last night, it's just one big wonderful lesbianic blur.
If I buy you $300 worth of popeyes, will that make up for me trashing the house?
Fell down a spiral staircase. Et tu vodka. Et tu.
By "met a doctor" I really mean "fucked a pre med student"
Last time I sleep with a guy with a penchant to fragrance his dick. Every time I sit to pee, I get a whiff of Axe body spray.
Life is too short to have fake orgasms.
Plus, I've always wanted to drive in rush hour with a huge cock drawn on my hood
She looks well worn, presumably from a cavalcade of penis.
I was apparently the best non-Irish person at the party. I wore my skating dress, Austrian flag and a giant shamrock. Everyone is calling me "30 Shots Girl".
this is a preemptive text before you call me freaking out: i have your keys and your car is parked safely a block down from your apartment.
you are a goddess
I can't believe you guys got into a sword fight over a chicken nugget
Oh, so that's where all the scratches came from...
My sweat smells like Wild Turkey. I'm really feeling the holiday spirit.
Welp just ran into my high school history teacher while buying a pregnancy test...there goes my veil of innocence in this town.
Eventually I will start sleeping with people who actually want to hangout with me the next day... But not today
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