Me. At least after what I've been through.
I'm about two and a half drinks away from gay.
I'm coming over.
She only remembers me when she's drunk. It's like I'm a suppressed memory that only surfaces with alcohol.
Say something like you want him to fuck you behind a McDonald's. Guys secretly love weird shit like that.
Maybe I don't remember every single thing... I think there's a hi lighter treasure map drawn on my arm...
I just found it. I hope it leads to food.
Contents of my pockets this morning: phone, condom, one hoop earring, half a cheeseburger, lighter and a $87 receipt from tacobell. Time for work.
Chick in class has 69 tattooed on the back of her neck. Target acquired.
We're like Siamese twins, but joined at the genitals.
I know how I'm going to make my fortune.. designing an icepack made specifically for the vagina.
I didn't know what happened last night until the bruises in the shape of hands showed up on my boobs. Then it all made sense.
I've never been more scared for my virginity in my life. And I lost my virginity almost 6 years ago.
He took initiative. Dragged me into the kitchen and did me on the stove....while it was on! And then we made nachos.
I'm going to become fluent in fucking Belgian boys
Update: drank half a bottle of Bourbon and texted three ex's. Waiting for the roommates to go to sleep so I can raid the fridge.
I'm pretty sure I naked in my first year of college more than I was as a baby.
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