last night I thought his shirt said yale... but this morning it definitely says old navy.
my bed looks and feels like i need to buy plan b.
And my awkwardness continues. I felt the need to send him a text that said roar. I did it.
so basically i'm the" little sister", he's the "big brother" and we just fucked
they started playing Don't Stop Believin' and you had a melt down because it wasnt the Glee version
It's like she bought one bad life decision and got one free
I checked into jail on foursquare
Some girl, somewhere, is going to wake up with my face paint on her vagina
I think I sprained my soul last night
Rehydrating your liver back to life is never a good idea.
i just keep picturing us drunk surrounded by kittens.
I don't get hangovers. Except once. And there is a massively epic story behind that, involving so much alcohol I should have died, and 13 raw hotdogs.
I just got into the cab. It smells like weed and the driver looks like someone who may or may not be really talented at playing the saxophone. He also asked me my thoughts on porn when I told him I'm an actor. I might not make it home.
I definitely don't have enough experience with hookers to be in this group text anymore.
I kept screaming that he looked like Khal Drogo and rode around the bar on his back.
Randomize
