I just found a frying pan...in my bed.
we sang "a whole new world" together. either he's my gay best friend or the love of my life.
its all coming back to me in waves....waves of humiliation and nausea.
Its 11am, im in the city in a pocahontas outfit, lost a heel and found a gold rolex in my lingerie.
So I passed out with my boxers on in the hotel jacuzzi at 5am.. The manager who kicked me out was pretty cute so I left my name and number for her at the front desk. I'm giving it a 50/50 she calls.
he peed on his own floor last night after we left the bar. pretty much sums up how i feel about the evening
my boss just offered me his leftover salvia im not sure if it was a trick question
I only know two things that kitchen floors are good for... sex and quesadillas that got dropped. You know, the five second rule
my dad is now demonstrating how to start a fire with a tampon. happy fucking new year!
i'm teaching a bunch of people how to grow weed over snapchat. no shame.
Blacked-in to me, shirtless, giving myself finger guns in the mirror and rapping "stacks in the club stacks stacks in the club."
Pants are for mortals
He referred to our sex as "an Olympic event." My tits are bruised.
My manager caught me going taking a nap in an empty room. Apparently she sleeps there too.
Idk, apparently drinking five Four Loko's and trying to fight a mailbox constitutes disorderly conduct.
Randomize
