Fine. I'll sleep in my office
using my metrocard to split lines. it says optimism on the back. i am optimistic that you will appear at my door and help me finish all these drugs.
i think he drugged the pie. i'll get back to you on that later.
in light of our recent drunken behavior, i think it's time we seriously consider hiring ourselves a babysitter.
Okay. I really need to get out of this guys bed and get home. It's two in the afternoon. He's not even HERE.
I guess at this point I should stop judging guys on their looks and more on their major and trust fund. Growing up sucks.
I'm pretty sure getting a blow job behind a bar in Rome while her little sister is throwing up in a dumpster not 5 feet away, gives entirely new meaning to the phrase "When in Rome"
If we could give a gymnastic score to drunken nights, I would be a part of the Fab Five.
You need to stop thinking about the needs of your vagina and concentrate on the greater good
My bathroom smells like artichokes and absinthe. I am naming a perfume after you and using the money to buy new towels.
I am at a point in my life where I don't want to brush my teeth for my tinder date because toothpaste and martinis don't mix.
Just had to read the instructions to my microwave. How am I so high?
This is a test message to see whether or not the recipient is alive.
Apparently the girl he banged in the bathroom yelled at him for hitting on me all night. But whatever, he was holding her hand for most of it
The last time I was on vacation the pandemic blew up. Can't wait to see how my vacation fucks up the world this time.
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