i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
We're going on a mission for new porn. And ice cream.
The highlight of my Saturday night was singing along to the sound of music alone in my room.
Sorry my moustache came off because I was face first in a layered bucket full of jello shots.
She tried to beat him up using a half gallon of Bacardi, instead she got tangled in Kayla's hanging bra and broke a lamp. She can party with us anytime.
Also cheers for the reminder to check last night's texts. It's been a magical adventure through drunk me's thought process.
Yeah. Moral of the story: Don't mace yourself. It sucks dick.
Okay, new plan. Get drunk, eat breadsticks. It's going to be great.
Whatever. I'll take my new fine ass dick sucking nails elsewhere.
I made it to work. Still drunk. Definitely pregnant.
Is it fucked up to venmo someone for plan-b?
Okay but look at his jawline. I NEED TO RIDE IT.
He asked me how many starwars references he could make before i no longer find him attractive.
I'm classy like audry Hepburn. Chugging wine out of the bottle on the way to the club. Shed do that. I know she would.
There is a baby in my apartment. What the fuck happened last night?
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