I'm eating all of the evidence.
It's true- you can buy beer at McDonald's in France. I'm not coming back to the States.
it's kind of nice to have a picture of me making out with someone and actually know who it is for once
I am at the point where deciding not to drink alone is worth a rocky music montage in and of itself.
On a side note I think I burnt my eyebrow when we "teter-totered" into the fire
We eventually had to ration the melon vodka. 10 pushups per shot. THATS why my arms hurt
I think I'm coming down now. I almost started crying because I lost a piece of paper.
Can't. Busy recovering from the worst pulled muscle of my life that I got either from excessively acrobatic boning or carrying a huge fucking ice luge down the street while wearing 4 inch heels
I'll never get why we had to sing the entire full house theme to the cab driver.... never drinking rum again.
It's like my life is one of those movies where after a bunch of outlandish events that only happen in a movie the girl realizes her true life calling and lives a great life with a sexy man of multiple races. But I'm stuck in the fucked up part where 25 year olds come in their pants.
For the first time in my life, I may be the most normal person in the room.
Update: I am definitely the most normal person in this room. And the least tattooed.
my throat is bruised, my back is scarred, my vagina feels like it's going to fall off.. you're like godzilla. you destroy everything.
He's still short.... And probably a douchebag. But if we ever run into him downtown I fully encourage you to take him home and have "I hate you douchebag" sex and lick every inch of that disgustingly toned chest.
I mean honestly, what would you have done?
Not screw her in the church house?
You know for a guy who frequently jumps into stuff without thinking it through, your can do spirit is lacking on this one
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