Barsexuality is the new black.
Trying to find something to do here is like trying to find a vegan resturant in alabama.
Street performer on bourbon st just lifted a sewer top so I could puke down it. I love New Orleans.
She asked me how I live with myself. I told her one night at a time.
Just bonged a beer from a vuvuzela...this place is only doing good for me
May have caused an international incident. More details after we taxi in.
Just went outside to gather hail to use to make margaritas since we ran out of ice. That's God's way of helping us out.
All I can remember is being told by a guy named Kyle to stay in the corner until the cops left. Then waking up on a porch outlined in beer cans 8 blocks from my house. Pregaming for college.
No, trust me. Falling down the stairs is a fucking sobering experience.
I'm eating my emotions. I am no longer interested in anybody other than my own hand and vagina.
did you not get the photos of the finger bruises on my ass?
He'd rather cuddle with his shitty little miniature dog than the half naked girl in his bed. I've lost all hope for him and my vagina
I'm giving random strangers at the bar sips of my fishbowl, then telling them I have Ebola. It's a fun night.
Side Note: Everyone in my office is getting engaged and having baby showers. And I'm all like, fuck your joy, I just want more string cheese in my life.
Is it sad that I just pissed sitting down so I didn't have to stop eating doritos?
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