Hey sorry about saying i hated you. it was the coke and the ice cream.
i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
He passes out, I smoke his kush. All's fair in love and a disappointing lack of sex.
An there's a little girl across the bar eating Mac n cheese... #1 she won't stop looking at me. Boo bitch I'm drinking alone. #2 I'm about to tackle her ass for that Mac n cheese.
Burnt my ear trying to use the bathroom blow dryer as a telephone.
I am not going to ask my mother to pause a movie so I can have phone sex.
You stumbled in at 10am, half-clothed and still drunk from last night and yelled "well, its not called a walk of pride!", then passed out on the couch.
Just found the last picture of me as a virgin. Framed it.
In light of your oncoming completion of twenty-three years of personhood, I feel a pressing need to blast country-pop phenomenon Taylor Swift's hit single "22" in your general direction until midnight.
His dick is as big as my 7" heels... Awkwardness is forgotten.
Just threw up in the shower. Hangovers at 23 are the best.
I'm not sure why, but my salad smells like a Big Mac. Or maybe that's just the smell of yesterday's, seeping through my skin.
My fucking earlobe is bruised what the hell
Sustenance and doggy style.. the only two things I need
He ate me out while I was wearing a canada goose parka and a dress hand crafted by a seamstress from yellowknife. I came while watching the northern lights. Most arctic orgasm ever.
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