Let's just say there is a bloody hand print above my bed and it's not mine. Literally.
My roommate and I had a nyquil contest. The nyquil won.
Lets go to the mall and pick up some fat chicks and take them out tonight so we can be the skinny friends
dude, I'm watching paul blart mall cop. I have better things to do than listen to you whine about your recent divorce.
I just accidentally handed the ticket lady a condom instead of the intended ticket. I am now the official whore of Harry Potter.
I can't make Walk of Shame Wednesdays a recurring theme.
I have their Unicorn picture in my shirt, and I just threw a Bud Light Platinum bottle through their window. We need to go now.
I'm drunk, laying in bed, eating macaroni salad. I dropped a piece and tried to pick it up with a fork. My cleavage is bleeding and I haven't been laid yet. Heeeyyyy!!!
Why even have a ground level apt if you're not gonna let me climb out the window? I hate walk of shaming in front of toddlers...
When I got home he was in his underpants on the couch, eating pop tarts and crying while watching Voltron.
I can't believe I got dumped for a fat chick, but at least I got four and a half years worth of free shit. So we can call it even.
Sooooooo, can scratch getting a pelvic exam by a man dressed as Woody from Toy Story off my list.
You need to write an essay about this experience.
He was even wearing the hat.
My feet surprised me
Just left the ER. Only good thing... my hot ass nurse Carlos stripped me.
God works in mysterious ways.
It was sweet, he carried me out of my bathroom after I passed out, built me a pillow fort so I wouldn't roll out of bed, set a glass of water on the table, and brought me a mixing bowl to puke in. Totally a sign we're more than just fuckbuddies.
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