So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
Somewhere in this world my second husband is in 9th grade.
Get out of your relationship and into my pants.
I apparently tried to stop my spending of money by sealing the top of my wallet with gum
The last thing i remember was high fiving everyone on the planet.
Donating $10 to Sandy victims for every hurricane I drink tomorrow. Buying me alcohol just became a good cause.
Well, we could've been at the bar taking a shot everytime my rash spread. But Noooooo. You had to go out with your non- girlfriend. Lame.
I feel like we should build an island for girls that have committed atrocious numbers of unforgivable sins. We'll call it 'whore island' after the anchorman fashion.
You just kept walking around in a circle saying "well played 6th street well played" before falling over.
Besides you're a Tennessee fan and it'd be against my religion to have your penis inside me today.
I think I fell asleep on the dance floor at one point...but played it off cool and acted like I just did the robot.
For 15 minutes straight, he literally did every accent there was, from Russian to Bostonian. The issue: no one could determine whether he was sober, wasted, or anywhere in between
I woke up this morning and had to retrieve my clothes from the flagpole, they were using my boxers as a makeshift rally flag for drinking. Yeah last night was a success.
Wait what do you mean I BOUGHT A FUCKING HORSE LAST NIGHT?!?!
HIGH AS FUCK. JUST WATCHED THE TRIPPIEST VIDEO EVER. IM NOT SCARED OF PANDAS. I GOTTA GO. TRIPPIN AGAIN
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