that was after robitussin, alcohol, and chocolate sauce... but before we finished pregaming
I am good. I dancing. Drinking but dancing fine.
Just dunked an oreo in a white russian. Trying to think of a better experience in my life and failing.
Nope it's him. He's whispering to himself and buying asparagus.
She's gonna be fat in the future. On a side note I had a "It's not you, it's me." conversation with a bottle of jack last night.
if you just come over, i will entertain you
arguing about the color of your bong does not count as entertainment
I just woke up in my ex-boyfriends bed, with my new boyfriends jersey on. I love March maddness.
if I'm at school tomorrow just indulge my moment of pity and let me cry on your shoulder
I just want him to come back from NOLA alive, without an arrest record or stripper glitter on his clothes...
Those seems like unreasonable expectations for a bachelor party honestly...
I woke up with a stapler in my ass. Don't even complain to me.
struggle bus is officially taking me on a road trip to hell. If this is just the first destination, I'll jump out the fucking window.
She's running around the streets punching people and narrating. I don't know whether to laugh or stop her
Because I chose to live vicariously through your uterus and you're letting me down right now.
the twins are trying to figure out which one is the one doing body shots off a janitor in this picture
I expected my Sunday morning walk of shame dressed as a sexy Dorothy would get some scorn, but nobody seems to even care
That’s because it’s 2020. The slutty costume walk of shame is a refreshing reminder of a time when wearing masks and catching communicable diseases was a right of passage, not everyday for the foreseeable future.
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