I just asked my hair stylist how many percocets she'd do my hair for.
He told me all about his plan for proposing to his girlfriend as pillow talk.
I swear it started with good intentions but then my slutty side took over and we started playing strip checkers
Sudden realization: I dumped him because he was too immature, yet I am the one who moved back into my parent's basement post-breakup.
I just found our entire wall-to-wall from September 2006 printed out and clipped... it's 49 pages. Blackout me is so considerate of bored-at-work me
Eating this pizza pocket is like eating out god
Honestly I think at this point I purposefully schedule nothing on Sundays anymore so I can spend all day wallowing in my shame.
I feel like this has turned into my work. But if I get paid sitting under a desk, that's perfectly fine with me.
Sit down my child. It's time you were told of my famous loss-of-virginity story entitled, "The Penis that Never Could."
I'm just gonna stay I'm bed where it is warm and cozy and nobody knows me as the girl that puked on a stripper
What kind of scumbag goes to a baby's 1st birthday party with a black eye? This kind. Me. I'm disgraceful.
I just woke up ass naked on top of all my sheets, with no blinds in my room because i used them as togas, my back is killing me, im covered in sharpie, i have no memory of last night, and im pretty sure im still drunk. I consider the night a success
My doctor actually said I was suffering from an "acute hangover" in doctor's note I asked him for....what a douche
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
You got up in the middle of a sentence, puked, came out and poured another glass of wine and continued your story.
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