just went to get groceries. a cashier said she saw me last night. i guess i carried a broom back from the party and swept the street the whole walk back...and i claimed to be in the cast of wicked
I think I might be in your shoes. Except they are actually my shoes. Either way these shoes are wasted.
We need to start having rules for the weekends. Like no more downing 3 shots because we want to slut dance a little harder or because biggie just came on.
I'm going to have to call in sick tomorrow. After this weekend, there's no way I can handle hearing the accountants talk about double entry without puking.
What do you mean you don't pregame your bikini waxes?
My life has become a never ending game of 'illegal or just frowned upon?'
She's like the Michael Jordan of alcoholism
The mystery gender stripper never showed up with that party burrito last night.
You went in the back with her.. And honestly I couldn't tell her neck from her tits man..
At this point all my Tinder matches are telling me I'll be fucking the whole male population of UMass '17.
She's walking to the bar while holding a fifth of fireball, talking on the phone and puking like its nothing out of the ordinary
Did I seriously answer the door for a home delivery of weed from you and your boss while wearing last night's 80s rockstar face paint?
I invited him to my hotel room via snapchat. I'm one hell of a classy bitch
drinking vodka out of a wine glass to feel a little bit classier about myself.
my boobs just made me lose a game of beer pong. the balls hit them, bounced off and into the cup. twice. ive never been so disappointed in them.
Randomize
