I vaguely remember taking a shit behind the shed before I started puking over the fence. No more Xanax.
I can't be held responsible for my own vagina. Let's just be honest here.
I don't even want to think about the kind of person who would shit in the street before 10pm on a Sunday.
What kind of outfit says I totes want you to take me in the airplane bathroom?
Remember that girl that we found passed out in the dorm study room under a pile of money and jimmy johns wrappers? She's standing right on front of me.
Are you kidding me????? How bout, IM SORRY FOR CALLING YOU 16 TIMES AND LEAVING YOU A TWO MINUTE VOICEMAIL OF MYSELF THROWING UP.
So his shoes are still here. And there are three contacts in a case. And a shirt on the bed. I've checked my dorm and he's not here. I'm so confused.
Oddly enough, the sex change dream i had made me miss you more.
He's unconstrained by sanity, physics, or his liver.
Yeah! Just remind me to. I'll also bring the blow up penis
You threw up with such class too! Tiara and all.
He lured me round with the prospect of sex and then made me proofread his CV and spoon. I fucking hate this guy.
One sec I was having the time of my life, the next I was shitting water
What am I supposed to say? "Oh hey, I can't go out with you tonight because I can't picture myself sleeping with you and I was high and just trying to be nice when I said yes"?
there's still a lot i don't remember, like why my iphone's nailed to your wall
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