I woke up (not at home) to find out I kissed Ryan Caberra, flashed for free gumbys and carried around an inflatable moose named Johnson. Great success.
a queef is a wish your heart makes.
smoking weed is really the only logical conclusion to hangovers
Not only did I hold your hair back as you puked, i french braided it. I am such a great friend.
Yea...coming from the girl who didn't understand why m&ms and tequila wasn't a "suitable diet"
From the trajectory of the puke, I must have fallen off the top bunk while trying to vomit, due to the dented bucket, ruined carpet, and bruised dignity I now own.
Hey we met at the bar a week ago. Your friend gave me a rose and you asked about my nipples.
So baked. About to eat a calzone then hate fuck this guy.
THAT'S MY GIRL
O was like, nah, fuck 50-50. My version of bi is that i'm 80% gay, 20% drug-addled decisions. Apparently he's straight on hallucinogens.
Just remember: We don't tell our English professor about our fetishes unless she specifically asks about them.
After I asked for my 6th Gin & Tonic, the look on the flight attendant's face started to make me feel bad about myself.
I found a Trump-humping republican virgin born on the goddamn Fourth of July. I NEED to hate-fuck him.
I just want cinnabon and vodka.
If me saying "come f***k me now" is talking, then yes.
Knew i was going to puke. So i grabed a bowl out of the kitcken in the dark before bed...Ended up puking into a spaghetti strainer...
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