I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
sunday morning discovery: something purple, smelly, and sticky my hair. any suggestions?
oh hey summer self, welcome to endless thirsty thursdays and walks of shame.
she carries around a jar of peanut butter. "just in case".
there's a guy looking for his pants in my room, is he yours?
Just write off about 10000+ brain cells and 6 months of your lifespan.
Sounds like a normal friday night
Apparently you can talk a girl into leaving the bar and coming back to your tent, who knew?
I think I might be drunk enough to cut my own hair
Also, sex on a first date is no, right? Really, I just don't want to clean my apartment, but I'm trying to hide behind "morals" in an effort to appear less lazy.
strip vodka pong is never a good idea. I saw into his colon when he picked up the ball off the floor
Charles Manson is Getting Married and I stare down at my tits and wonder how I am possibly single.
I finally broke my dry spell. I did it. D-do-da-Dora.
I woke up in your kitchen with my ID in my hand and my nails were painted electric blue. Dude.... never let me have fireball again.
So from zero to dumpster fire, how shitty do you feel this morning? I'm hovering somewhere around trainwreck.
If you think me talking about that hot guy accepting my LinkedIn request is pornographic, I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel when I tell you I fucked a stranger on a park bench last weekend
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