Last night I got a napkin with 4 names & numbers: Katie, Ellen, Kylie...and Brandon.
the 24 hour champagne diet aint going so well
Sunscreen. In my vag. I hate summer sex.
well what she called a "work function" most people call "doing shots with your boss while people throw napkins at you."
grown man stumbling drunk down green street wearing nothing but a hot dog costume and crying. its not even noon yet.
shes got that 'its my party i can do meth if i want to' mentality. i like that.
no one was sober enough to set up jenga so we just threw the pieces at the last person to drink
I've made my dad a martini every night since I was 13.. I got this
I'm truly not mad that he's at a strip club, it's that he couldn't look far enough into the future to figure out how to get himself home from one
He told me to be careful with the shrooms because he mostly had caps left. He sounded apologetic but that's the best news all week.
Not a or good or bad impression, just that you were all basically naked playing beer bong in sombreros and ties. Casual.
Dude for real though, we gotta stop getting hammered and kissing gay guys.
Just cried because I'm out of oreos. This post-molly depression can go fuck itself.
According to the boxer briefs I found on the couch when I got home, I take it your date went well??
I woke up and my backpack was empty. He used me for sex, and back to school supplies.
Randomize
