this is a mass text: i just made a grilled cheese with an iron and pasta with the coffeemaker in the hotel room. bow before your new god.
Measuring your booze intake in glasses is like measuring Rosie O'Donnell's weight in ounces.
Mustard is by no means a replacement for yellow wall paint
i'm pretty sure the only people calling it "sexting" are ones who don't actually do it
You filled up my voicemail with a slurred but graphic depiction of how you were humping a fire hydrant.
How many folks do you know who bring coke to a dinner party. Seriously.
The dingo escaped by eating a hole through my screen door. It's loose in the city somewhere.
I left myself a trail of jello shots, that ended at his door. OR maybe he left me a trail of jello shots at his door. DO I GO IN!?
Driving by his house every hour is not stalking, it's a reconnaissance mission... How else can I confront him
I can't tell whether I'm a) still hungover from two nights ago, b) legitimately sick or c) all of the above... multiple choice was never my forte
Walking in on a gay threesome, with a girl in the corner watching and taking vid is a reason to not only knock, but to never go to Savannah.
Something about Sunday night screams phone sex
We are so on opposite sides of the boobs spectrum
He showed up at 1:10AM covered in mud and vomit, wearing a headband that said victory in Japanese. I WANT PICS.
My boob job is like a master key that gets me in any door, any party and anyone’s pants! They’re magical!
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