I called Tyra Banks a whore to her face. A sure sign I should go home. Instead I went to the gay bar.
Drunk, high, and in a taco costume. Wish you were here.
At what point in time did you decide the pot head with Taco Bell was more important than all your friends.
At about the same time you guys weren't burritos.
Who was that guy you went home with?
Hang on, I'm trying to ask his name right now.
I had to hold off a girl who was trying to check your pulse while you were passed out. She kept screaming that she was a nursing major and needed to make sure you were alive.
I try to help out whenever I can. Speaking of rough nights I woke up half naked on Brady's couch with bloody paper towels duct taped to my foot.
That's what you get for fucking someone nicknamed "wiggle worm"
I gave myself a pep talk in the library bathroom mirror. and then threw up in the sink.
the outcome of this sandwich determines whether or not i do anything else with my day..
drinking from the bathtub cause I'm too lazy to walk downstairs and too thirsty to care
I'm going to need a Jurassic park sized pooper scooper to deal with all this shit last night caused.
She rode me like a jockey on that tiny couch. Then we spooned.
Great, now even dream!me is a drunken borderline mess.
Is texting an old booty call with "can you still get your ankles behind your ears?" an appropriate way to reemerge into the singles scene???
What do you want. Tryin to service my husband like the good wife that I am. It is bj Tuesday
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