google image searching george stephanopoulos at 1 AM on a saturday night...once again
we're at the bar and some girl dropped a bottle of burnettes strawberry vodka out of her purse and it broke.
i mean, if that's not class, then i don't know what is
Fell off bed. Face first. 10 stitches. huge scar on forehead. totally going to start telling ppl my parents died fighting Voldemort.
maddie and i have invented a community puke bowl. explanation later
chlamydia ends and my period begins. this isnt real life
Fuckbuddy couldn't meet, so she's trying to find a substitute to come fuck me. Best. Fuckbuddy. Ever.
The best part is when you puked in your slurpree and the 7 eleven guy still made you pay for it
Still borderline I believe. As bad as this sounds, I feel God owes me one here and should not let his grandmother die till after my birthday
WE COULD TOTALLY DO ECSTASY AND GO TO THAT CAT SHELTER OFF OF BROADWAY.
I can motorboat myself in this new push-up bra. I need to go out tonight.
Before we fucked we both mutually agreed not to tweet about it.
Just so you know my hand is still healing from where you drunkenly clawed me last Saturday
we all thought you were asleep. he found you an hour later sitting outside in the snow lighting a bowl, singing the CatDog theme song, and hugging a box a Franzia.
Only you could make a reflective vest look even remotely sexy
don't bring your nerd jargon into this conversation about my naked body