the only difference between me and a prostitute was that i complained a lot more.
PS, you're not being slutty, you're "making dreams true."
He did the "not my house dance." Apparently it involves spreading cereal on the floor and then grinding into the carpet in bare feet while singing "not my house" over and over and dancing.
Haha I will however wear glass and and draw a lightning bolt scar if you want to have sex that way, and that can be the only time you can call me Harry.
aaaaaand im pretty certain i told that boy i just met that "his balls better be out tomorrow"
Typcal friday morning so far. Puke, shower, commute/puke, coffee, puke, coffee, bagel, good to go. Lunch today?
She made me sing happy birthday to myself at the urinal.
I think she faked a seizure to get out of it ...
Nevermind, there are three drinks waiting at the bar for me. I cannot disappoint this alcohol.
Going to the ER, I'll explain later but apparently drunk me isn't allergic to peanut butter.
where will you be at 9:30 tonight?
piledriving you in your roommate's bed?
I spent most of my night in the men's room eating popcorn on the garbage can conversing with strangers pissing
Besides, I'm booked tomorrow. I'm planning on drinking heavily and crying in the bath.
He couldn't undo my bra. He ended up breaking the clasp he clawed at it so long. We met on Tinder for God sake
I feel like I should have held a press conference. The state of my vagina
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