I realized that I earned the name Classy cassie as i was throwing up vodka slushie in my bed with a guy I know by the name extacy boy
i feel like someone uncorked me like a wine bottle and pulled a living animal outta my arse.
His sex texting was like a step by step guide to the most boring sex ever...
it's just like freshman year of high school, with more drugs
Listen, it's not like I meant to bust the window out. It just sort of happened. And I'm also sorry for stealing your dads bandanas.
there is an extreme lack of margarita in my mouth.
It's like rock paper scissors. Cold showers and smoking beat hangovers.
He is really real. Like I know where he works, have referenced him with mutual fb friends and I've seen his dick. He's real.
No he can't come. I swear to gods he's "Why We Can't Have Nice Things" given physical form.
My vagina is no longer accepting new clients.
It's 6am and I had to explain to the gas station attendant why I didn't have shoes on and I'm covered in maple syrup.
Do not tell me I cant do drunk math ever again, AND I made a creative way of telling him I want him to fuck me.
I was legit late to work one day Bc it took me so long to get a good nude
There is an episode of "how it's made" on tv right now. The subject is tequila and water beds. Basically my life.
I woke up with my winter coat on, next to a polaroid of me, her and a swan...so no I don't remember our conversation.
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