I'm at breakfast still drunk holding a blow up parrot
Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
I'm so hungover, I actually considered rolling down the stairs to avoid walking.
I don't want to eat him, he probably tastes terrible.
I can feel myself smiling like 10 minutes after I stop smiling, and that's just like... so awesome.
You screamed "she never feeds them anyway" and threw the fish tank off the 3rd floor balcony. Don't park on our side of the building.
I texted him that I wanted to be more than fuck buddies so when I came over he gave me a punch card. He takes me I dinner every 10 fucks.
Mostly i might never get belligerent again because im gonna have to keep track of a diamond ring.
Nothing says "I'm sorry for shitting in your bed" like an Olive Garden gift card
Last night when I blacked out, I ate Chef Boyardee. I never want to be that drunk ever, ever again.
Open the door and I will lure them out to freedom with viagra and candy orange slices. You know they love that shit.
I was doing handstands in the jail cell and crying “IM A HIGH SCHOOL TEACHER AND IT’S CHRISTMAS EEEEEVE”
Steven and I talked about running for office again today. It's fucked that my 3 dream jobs are marijuana bakery owner, bar owner, and president.
I'm like the total package- I don't want a relationship and I have daddy issues. What more could he want?
let your parents know i'm sorry i ran around the house pretending their metal detector was a "booze detector"
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