Alex texted me. Bootycall boy #2. its like an alarm goes off once i'm single that the line is open again
ugh. my soul tastes like vodka
stop changing my ringtone to people fucking, it looks bad at work
wait one more day. tuesday is my official "i hit on you and/or we hooked up this weekend" friend request day.
Weed smoke burps in the boss's face. Job security.
Shoot me. Guy hitting on me with a beaver on his head. Says it is his spirit animal.
There's a skull full of vodka. How bad can it be?
When he gets asked "is it in?" more than his name you arent missing out on much more than a petite tampon.
She told me that for every Ravens touchdown, I'd get to come once.
Marry her. Marry her now. I'll help you steal the ring.
I swear I can't go out anymore. It's like he put a GPS in my dick. I don't know if I should feel awkward or proud...
YOU KNOW BRAZILIAN BOYS ARE MY WEAKNESS
I'm not sorry for loving America more than everyone else
You can't just snapchat me a picture of a pregnancy test and then not answer your phone
I love you with the passion of a thousand FUCKBOYS during the height of week 1 texting
my lips are numb and my face feels like a pool. PENGUINSSSSSS
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