I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
no, he's only a walking dick if he mans up. right about now he's just a walking transgender.
You were face down, at your computer, surrounded by beer bottles listening a bagpipes version of amazing grace.
why do guys feel they can ask questions when im blowing them? you'd think they'd know my answer will always be "mmhmhmhmmm"
this is a mass text: i just made a grilled cheese with an iron and pasta with the coffeemaker in the hotel room. bow before your new god.
i gave him the "yep, i was your girfriend's collegiate lesbian sex story" head nod
Someone jacked my earrings off me or I threw em in the toilet again
I hate when that happens
It never makes you rethink your life choices when you're breaking into my apartment at 3 am to take a piss in my kitchen sink?
Just grabbing my bra from a history teacher's desk in the Humanities building. Maybe I should stop drinking on weeknights
We have so much sex to catch up on
He stumbled out of the bathroom with his pants around his ankles yelling "tie my shooes!"
im not letting a little injury get in the way of my alcoholic/drug problems. we ARE getting turnt tonight.
He texts me "just to say hi" and then tells me how hard he is and sends me a dick pic. And I'm like, dude, I'm ordering a burrito right now
I knocked over his glass and he yelled "Oh no the boxed wine!" and slurped it off the coffee table. Then he showed me how to mix maple syrup, Jameson, and coffee. My family is better than your family.
Not sure how my purse ended up in the bushes last night... Or why there was a noodle strainer in the toilet.
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