Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
Yea. I think between making the bride puke, feeling up the maid of honor, and sleeping with a bridesmaid. I did my part.
He needs to respect me before he can fuck me with cat ears on.
Should I tell him the real reason I was in the hospital, or should I just keep him thinking the side effect he thought was in for was allergy related, not I just miscarried the child I didn't know we were having?
"Shots" of grape juice. I fucking hate Utah soooo fucking much.
The sex was so bad. I kept sending people snapchats of my face during it.
I vaguely recall putting a toaster in the freezer.
You know, I think I'm going to rock the shit out of this whole mid-twenties thing. Fuck babies and weddings -- I have vodka and young cock.
How weird would it be for me to get 1 hour photos printed at CVS of my partially or all nude?
Apparently I drunkenly agreed to help the homeless. For once, I'm not disappointed in drunk me. Four for you, drunk self. You go, drunk self!
how am i in montreal? thats like a 3 hour train ride. i remember nothing.
Don't come back. They don't have pants.
Oh god.
God has nothing to do with this.
Get here now. There’s a guy dressed as Captain Morgan handing out miniature bottles of Captain Morgan.
I smell Vodka. It's me. If anyone asks it's totally hand sanitizer.
I think my roomie is silently judging me for spraining my foot by having sex in a bounce house
so the bounce house and tequila was good idea then?
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