She has a concussion we think. Dancing to barbie girl.
playing nyquil roulette. it entails taking shots of nyquil and hoping it doesnt kick in during sex or in public. game on.
I've got a permanent seat at the "Girls who eat their feelings" table this weekend.
4:37 am. You're wearing underwear and carpet skates. Borderline crying. You want to punch Morgan. Have not stopped singing Give Your Heart a Break.
I don't know what I'm more pleased with, the blowie last night or that fact that there's still 20 dollars in my wallet
I ate the last cupcake. I'm sorry. It was in the refrigerator mocking me. So I ate it. And it was glorious. But I'm sorry.
i just deleted him from my phone. and yes... I did just text you this from less than 20 feet away.
I'm not judging.. I sure as hell am not getting out of my bed to come talk to you about this. but i support your decision
I don't know, but I assume drunk me had her reasons. I trust her judgement.
I have to drop off my inflatable penis costume at the bar for my bartender. Do you think you could meet me there at like 630?
I make him buy me all the extremely expensive high end Mac cosmetics I desire. Wear it then let him cum on my face. I am fucking glamorous.
Mmm. Champagne. Weed. 17 pounds of animal crackers.
He does impressions. Handy knowing you can get fucked by one guy and pretend a group of celebrities is running a train on you.
shit i just threw up on a freshman
i don't know if i should laugh or feel bad..
nevermind it was a sophmore, laugh.
Oh man. I threw up in the first cab. Got kicked out. Roamed somewhere for awhile. Fell asleep in the back if the second cab. Woke up in my underwear on the living room floor with a frozen pizza (thawed) laying next to me
gave up morals for lent, so far it's actually been really easy.
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