how the fuck am i supposed to make breakfast with spaghettios and mustard
Where are I am going home with Ryan
I don't know who this or Ryan is but it is probably too late to talk you out of it
Standing here next to my mom talking to my friend trying to act like he doesn't sell me E every weekend.
The only birthday messages I got from men were from my 8th grade boyfriend and the bouncer at our bar. I think I'm doing something wrong in life.
woke up on my stairs with half a hot dog beside me and the last text I sent was "i make hot dog in toasTer" .
we need to start a braincell conservation fund for you, sort of like save the whales or something.
me and my mom are sitting in the bank parking lot drying my beer soaked check with the heat... the whole car smells like heinekin and I'm trying to convince her I don't need a.a.
1 in 5 deaths i nrussia is alcohol related. GO MOTHERLAND
its warm now so i can go back to sleeping with guys based on their fuckability rather than how much warmth they generate.
If I had to summarise my weekend I would do so using the words "horrifying romanian moonshine"
I misjudged the power of my pelvic thrusting capabilities. His nose is broken. Thoughts?
I need a "closed for the season, thanks for a great summer" sign for my vagina
I am coping with the snow storm with beer and shots of jack. If I were outside in shorts I might be able to pass as a Canadian.
I found a bar with Metallica and a fire eater. I'm home
I was on antibiotics for a bladder infection and couldn't drink and you told me there was no longer room in your life for me.
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