lesson #67 learned in college: a three day old margarita, is still a margarita.
my phone cant type all the emotion im having
champagne bombs. Yes, i think that is where things may have gotten out of control.
I've got 15 minutes to eat dinner and drink a 40. Four years of college has all been training for this moment.
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In my drunkeness I was planning how to throw up without my parents hearing. I was gonna go for a "run" and just throw up outside.
Let's get drunk and go to Walmart and just tackle people at random.
Good news: I actually puked in my bathroom, the vomit from the living room was actually from someone else.
That's horrible but hilarious
I'm going to miss college.
too late I already started a fight with someone named luscious
Get this. He's a red head and he works at country oven bakery. He will forever be known as the gingerbread man.
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I need to quit being a slut. It's to the point that I got my period today and automatically I Believe I Can Fly popped into my head.
I'm kinda surprised he wouldn't be honored to take me back as a fuck buddy.
I don't think it counts as a booty call at 6:30 pm.
He told me to leave him behind and bury him in his batman pajamas. So two lessons I guess, don't give Tom whiskey and don't touch his daddy issues with a twenty nine and a half foot pole.
Of course he's seen my tits, I wave those things around like a trump supporter does an American flag
I hate when pubes grow back. My mons is a warzone.
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