I was just tapping my foot in the bathroom at Penn Station just PRAYING for anonymous sex. You know how that goes.
just balanced a champagne glass on my gut. thanks to beer im a living breathing tempur-pedic mattress.
I think I'm making progress on my commitment issues. I drunk made out with the same guy from last semester this weekend.
whatever a "slut portfolio" is, mine is apparently almost complete
I am trapped in a bar with french tattooed drug dealers who also blow glass art. Just in case this is bad, know what happened.
I feel like I have African malaria. I just remembered singing Teenage Dream in full to that biker couple at the bar.
captain&coke to the library. STAT. this is an emergency. this is not a drill. I repeat: THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
my liver gets a handicap on account of the whole being diseased thing
I really don't want to. I just don't know how to nicely say "dude I'm having a rough time in life right now and I just need to dress like a stripper cop, get shit faced, and have dirty crazy sex"
I will fuck him senseless, no need for a priest.
I only have one eye to read your texts because I just stabbed one out after reading that last text.
there's still three solo cups of your puke in my basement. so that needs to be solved at some point.
I used a jello pudding cup as a shot chaser last night. I'm the Bill Cosby of alcoholics
It was his birthday and he drunkenly offered me Portillo's and diamonds in exchange for a snap chat of my boobs. Even sober it seemed like a good idea at 3 in the morning.
I was using my Beauty and the Beast blanket as a makeshift skirt because no pants
I did cocaine off my boobs last night. Then I wrote two essays and went on a run. Go me
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