i wanted to be an indian when i was a child. apparently you cannot grow up to be an indian.
my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
well that explains the french fry and ketchup packet rolled into the wasitband of my sweats. thank you drunk me.
Katie told the cabby "when the boat docks I'm getting off with you"
I just drove my booty call to his booty call, if that isn't spreading the love, I don't know what is.
Apparently nothing brings out sympathy in a barista like asking if they have a hangover special
you missed 2am bagpipes and my roommate looking hot as fuck in a kilt
my whole checking account just had a funeral down bourban street, paid for that, and then bought everyone 5 shots of fireball...
The night is not complete until I am drnk and speaking to inanimate objects
See this is where I mess up.. I get distracted by the option of consistent sex and free beer
there is a smiley face on my leg painted in blood
I'm pretty sure that's yours.
I feel like a weird modern Betty Crocker. I'm icing a cake and looking at gay porn, if that's not an accurate portrayal of the 21st century idk what is.
you gave me money for the cab and then walked home..
I WILL KICK YOU IN THE FUCKING THROAT IF YOU EAT MY FUCKING ICE CREAM.
You know that panicky moment when you go home with a guy and realize you’ve been there before?!? HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!!!
Turns out I banged his son a few months ago but the kids back at college so I don’t have to worry about him walking in while Dad has me bent over the couch
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