I called Tyra Banks a whore to her face. A sure sign I should go home. Instead I went to the gay bar.
My birth control alarm just woke me up from my dream where I was pregnant. Thank god.
Piggyback rides are my preferred mode of transportation.
Climbing onto the roof in a dress and high heeled boots was probably not the best idea, especially after all that Bacardi.
No, no, no. Fuck you. I took a glass blowing class solely to learn how to make that bong. You shattered it and my dreams in a matter of five seconds.
you fucked my boyfriend. margarita girls night will not fix this.
i will trade you pizza and a blowjob for a fifth of vodka.
do i get to eat the pizza while you give me the blowjob?
Chapter 6 - how to lose your underwear in chicago
The way I'm gonna look at it is, if you don't makeout with your roommate once in college, you didn't do something right.
I should have questioned it early on when they said bring beer and chocolate syrup
The trainer from the tech college told me that I would pass the first aid course so long as I turned up sober. Challenge accepted
We have such limited time together he literally sends me text messages that are like "I sent my roommates on an impossible quest, we have 15 minutes." it's that bad.
What's the procedure for answering a booty call from someone under house arrest?
Like why am I even still facebook friends with a guy I let finger me at a concert?
Weight watchers just said "you've tracked beer three times recently, want to make it one of your favorites?" I'm begining to understand why I needed to go in the first place.
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