I'm eating oreos and watching porn. This is your fault.
It's 10am, I'm at grocery store buying booze b/c the bf just told me that he didn't "technically" break up with his ex.
I just puked in the mop bucket at work. I think I need to go home.
I was so drunk that I didn't realize he was staying at the Waldorf. I walk of shamed the Astoria, do you even know what this means?
I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
Chasing shots with sriracha-covered mini toast was, in retrospect, not the best idea.
Idk. I was speaking metaphorically. Go for it. As one of your bad decisions, I feel confident in saying you've done worse.
how did you know i stayed over last night?
there was a trail of glow sticks and cheetos from the front door all the way to his bedroom
There is no sno cone on earth better than alone naked time. Side note: text when you all are headed home.
You left a motherfucking bruise. ON MY TIT. How? How do you even. No.
I was just trying to flirt with James Franco but she kept telling me to take shots out of Ron Burgundy's mouth
He snapchated me a photo of his penis with the caption "it needs a home".
Um. Did you take a picture of me with a giant dildo after we went bowling?
He just stopped in the middle of undressing for sex to dip his slice of pizza in ranch. I think I’m in love.
well I ran around the park drunk with a plastic baby and fell, all while screaming "I WILL PROTECT YOU CARLOS", yeah there's video
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