after we finished, she said she had been a backup performer for Cirque du Soleil. THAT flexible.
She was singing my heart will go on into her barf bag. celine aint got shit on her.
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
I was walking around outside with a basket of eggs. I feel like little house on the prairie: hungover edition.
Every time I get scared about the fact that I'm falling for him I remember that he juggles and is hung like a mastadon and everything is a-ok.
The bosnian sent me a sext with his dick next to a comcast remote. It went up to the "stop" button. Ironic and appropriate. Grab your remote and imagine it.
You've ruined television for me.
I totally just potholed and almost crashed while trying to lick salsa off my boob.
He's a little cute, in a dorky, I-know-for-a-fact-his-cock-is-huge kind of way
Let's just say after this weekend I'm known as Shameous the Irish bar fighter.
I almost had to fight a bird, and you know how scared I am of birds. It found that Percocet that I lost in the grass last week, I threw out my back when I launched myself at that little fucker.
Everyone says I win the strip club
I WOULD SERIOUSLY RECOMMEND THE SHIT THAT I AM ON RIGHT NOW
Ugh it's 2016, why can't our bodies just shed fat on their own
Not sure how my purse ended up in the bushes last night... Or why there was a noodle strainer in the toilet.
I'm cuddly bitch. Deal with it.
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