It's officially time to start saving up weed money for the NCAA tournament
so it turns out, not only do the doormen judge the girls I bring home, but they rate them.
The thumbs up barstamp on my hand is mocking my hangover with its positivity.
110% paid for our cab with a lap dance
he looks SO much like Drake, I feel like an extreme groupie every time we have sex.
He was dressed up as Jesus and had vodka in one hand while he was blessing everyone and splashing them with holy water in the bathroom.
I'm pretty sure I asked his brother if he was gay while drunkenly falling to the ground.
I mean metaphorically speaking, maybe we've all fucked on top of a frat house at some point in our lives
I woke up knowing I have nowhere to be today except parties and it was glorious and I am so happy
you made cordon bleu at 4am and declared you were Marshall Stewart
Topless Tuesday? One of us will be really happy the other not so much.
The perfect man would keep a whisky sour in my hand and give me endless sex. I really don't think that's too much to ask for.
A seagull just tried to steal my cellphone
What kind of true American would I be if I didn't just smoke weed in my bathrobe on my back porch in the middle of suburbia on 4/20? #stepmomoftheyear
I fucked him on shrooms. His dick looked like a missile and he had snakes coming out of his ears. It. Was. AWESOME!
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