I was so high last night. I wrote a poem about my salt shaker
Its trashy in the best of ways. Like a stripper working to pay for college.
Watching the tv in the reflection of my phone cause I'm too hungover to roll over.... Yes it is 4 PM...
This bitch flirting at the bar needs to close her legs and open up a book. I can literally feel my IQ dropping every time she bends down to show her tits.
Jealous?
Very.
Apparently 'check out this motherfucker' is not an appropriate greeting to use in the vicinity of sitting united states senators. Who knew
I'm laying in the fetal position on the floor of my kitchen eating potato salad with my fingers. Please come over with some real food and keep me company.
I'll remember. Also, I owe you 200 for a pair of shoes that I carelessly bought to improve my spinal structure, to improve my health and ensure that I love to be 300 years old. Like Adam. Of the bible.
For context, I was hiding under the pong table mooing at everyone by that point.
You know, we cock-blocked like 5 people last night. It's like we're her vagina goalies
I don't know what song to play at my bong's funeral!
Some guys phone started vibrating on the tv. I answered mine. That's how high I am.
It was a recodring of you having sex ! It was like an ape and a dying mongoose at a buffet Xoxoxo
I fucked the midget version of a backstreet boy and I am not mad about it
I woke up with a bunch of jolly ranchers and an eight ball in my purse. Successful
Whatever douche. I sucked the dick that made you. I. Win.
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