we're blogging at a bar
I mean, I don't even call it a hangover anymore. It's just morning.
Seriously. There are at least 10 other people drinking at the bar with me at 10:40. Im justifying it with the fact that I've been up since 5am.
I decided they need a food cart that just roams around the library like the cotton candy people at the circus. But with real food. like tacos cause it sounds delicious.
We're not in high school anymore. I'm not going to pretend to be impressed as he butchers my favorite songs on his guitar. I just wanted to get laid.
Apparently I got mad at you for "Not drinking with me till we thought we were seahorses" and smashed my face on your door. Then I put my feet in the oven and started crying because I was drinking alcohol from a pot. My life is spinning out of control.
It's really sad that I'm trying to calculate in my head the type of place to have dinner that's worth anal
Sometimes while peeing I'll go hands free, put my arms up by my chest and make claw hands, and pretend I'm a new type of dinosaur called Dickosaurus Rex.
So I deleted all the text from my phone, was looking for my mom's coffee order and show the coffee guy the pic of me eating pussy.
If you can't drink with the big boys, give up your beer and go back to the playpen
I just want somebody who'll randomly bring me pizza and lovingly squeeze my butt. Is there a dating app for that, do you think?
I need a pedicure
You need to go to planned parenthood
the fact that I can still put my shoes on is a testament to the fact that I can outdrink these bros
Are you still in his room?
Nope, yogged home at 8 am with one shoe on.
I don’t care how cute or big a guy is I’m done with drunken hand jobs. It was like I was pulling a nine inch bungee cord for 25 minutes. Now My arm and shoulder is dead
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