I've walk of shamed through this apartment complex so many times, I think people think I live here.
I may or may not be drunk driving a golf cart. Vegaaaassssssss.
Packed at 6 am completely wasted. Damage assessment: 12 pairs of socks (no underwear), a flashlight, 3 shorts, shot glass, 8 sweaters, puff paint, one sneaker.
Party priorities: alcohol > girls > music > cups > decorations
I mean, I don't even call it a hangover anymore. It's just morning.
It started with jello shots. It ended with tears.
It's fine...I've done worse things to better people.
Post-sex nachos deserve a song.
Like real life can suck my metaphorical dick right now.
I'll give you some choices for what to get me for Christmas. 1.You naked. 2.You naked 3.You naked.
I could see myself being this awkward weirdo drunk girl that patted strangers and danced terribly but was powerless to stop it
Bro, if we got a house, it'd basically be a revolving door for slightly overweight, but extra cute, sexually deviant girls with daddy issues.
You added his wife on Facebook?! You're horrible at this mistress thing
If people had ratings on Tinder I'd give you 5 out of 5 stars.
He ate me out in the warehouse on a pallet of sunlight soap. I fucking love night shift!
Randomize
