then the nurse gave me a bag with my personal belongings: phone, wallet. jacket, keys and a BTB burrito
once I found out that a naked stripper wasn't gonna pop out of the cake I kind of just lost interest in the party
So here i am dipping ice cream in my vodka and watching the bad girls club on demand. This is not ok
Ok just don't go to jail. I saw your account balance. It can't take that.
ugh... thank God for ATM withdrawal limits. I was drunk enough to give that weird shaped stripper all of my money while making her cry in the back room.
I shame-fucked to Hotel California, don't tell me about priorities.
I shit myself. Legit. And I burnt my tongue. Unrelated incidents, but related in the sense of general discomfort.
Will the fact that I have 4 boob hickies add to or take away from tonight's outfit?
She gave me what I will now dub a "hurricane sandy". Loud, wet and sloppy BJ that made me want to stay home and complain about shit on the Internet
this celing is unfamiliar to me... im just vaguely wondering where i am. but not quite concerned enough to do anything about it.
Its okay that he doesn't remember you, he only remembers girls by their boobs and I think you were wearing a jacket
Her rack rivals that of the deer I shot last season. You need to get after that.
I manage to fit my wine bottle in my koozie and the rest is history
you should never start the day with a boob text. It can only go downhill from there
We do have a rich storied history of emotional warfare
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