It must be a full moon weekend. All of my weird booty calls are coming out of the woodwork. I spent 40 minutes on the phone last night telling one why he is so creepy.
you jizzed all over me and yelled "makeover"
woke up to an overdrawn credit card. did you order the dawsons creek boxset last night?
i hope so.
we're on our way back. she tried to pants the waiter again.
He just came into the room wearing nothing but a Speed Racer helmet. I think he just invented a fetish.
I just wanted to give you a heads up. There's a crab in the kitchen. He doesn't have a name yet. We are just calling him crab for now. Oh! and we have memosas!
I'm putting "buy a bottle of scotch" on my "productive things to do to procrastinate studying for finals" list
just got home. some guy on my porch is tryin to show me his balls. no more parties at my apartment.
Bartender just fed me brownie. Its going to be a good night
Do to my newly discovered condition I'm having to resort to emergency beat sessions to avoid the temptation to text girls I know are easy slams.
I have bruises from doing the splits on the poles, if that doesn't scream bourbon street regret then I don't know what does
If anybody had to puke on my shoes, I'm glad it was you.
It's sad that I'm more proud of my Twitter account then my resume
I just tried to pass the bowl to my dog for 2 minutes before I remembered she isn't human. It is 7:27 am.
We got cut off at a bar at 4pm. We aren't human
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