I have just two goals for this NYE. 1) get so drunk that every guy looks like Clive Owen 2) make out with as many Clive's as possible.
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
When did our fuck buddy relationship, turn into me babysitting his dog?
Why is everyone else growing up when I'm just crying, eating, and having pregnancy scares?
Worrying about "What smells like cat pee?" is so much easier than worrying about "What am I doing with my life?"
Learn from me. When going to a booty call do not wear a belly shirt. Nothing says shame like a belly shirt at 7am.
Much like Dre, I was forgotten about.
He has a bed frame and a headboard.... That match his dresser and nightstand...
Hahah. That's good.
I feel like you don't understand the severity with which this weirds me out...
I'm at the point in my life where I'm gonna sell my eggs for cash
also I have no idea whose underpants I'm wearing right now but they're super comfy and I'm not giving them back ever
The part where he comes over and ignores you isn't what makes me mad about that story... It's the fact that he ate your tacos, AND THEN proceeded to ignore you. That's cold hearted.
Currently looking up Winnie-the-Pooh porn.
Wanna go on a picnic?
... by picnic I mean wanna sit on a blanket and drink with me?
Can you imagine doing supermarket sweep in a sex store? What's the sex store equivalent of a whole ham?
day drinking didnt prepare me for this..
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