I miss you like a fat girl misses the prom.
Midget Michael Jackson impersonator dancing to Beat it in Penn Station almost caused me to miss my train. God, I
You called me twice to tell me that you spit in your own eye, when I was right next to you.
i really thought "pants-shitting drunk" was an unreachable level until last night
I don't care. I'm going to fuck John's friend and it's all your fault.
dream priorities were more important than voting today. don't tell me you wouldn't keep going back to sleep to find out who would win a fight between oprah and godzilla
There two guys dressed as FEMA workers with jump-suits that say "Post-Disaster Breast Examination Division"
I like how my motivation to lose weight is so I can wear a nude bikini and get covered in body paint for the tribal party. Priorities.
I fingered myself to realization that I don't need birth control if there is never a guy.
I have this terrible fear I might accidentally text a pic of my dick to my grandma
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
Thank fucking Christ I was not wearing pants or eating chocolate cake last night.
I made a separate snapchat account so I could swap nudes with a guy from omegle.
Why do all of your bad decisions sound like fucked up mad libs?
My professor just asked for my number. Not fucking her till after finals though I learned my lesson last time.
He woke me with blue berry pancakes and a blow job. He's a keeper.
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