If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
final count. 18 beers. 4 shots baileys. 2 shots vodka. 1 glass champagne. vomited in the yard after losing my phone in a field for 8 hours. Possibly played tag with myself
Turning 21 on Saint Patty's day. I like to think this is what my alcoholic ancestors have prepared me for
I miss your penis. And I totally say this as a friend. I just miss it because it's great. You should be very proud of it.
She referred to her collection of sex toys as an "arsenal." I'm not sure whether to be scared or excited....
It wasn't until i was on my knees with three dicks in my face that i thought it might be a bad idea
According to this USDA thing I just read, I should either get upper respiratory issues or begin to bleed from my nose and mouth.
What can i say, i'm an artist. I think deep thoughts. In between the homoerotica and pterodactyl noises
i fucking swear, saying shit like "i dont get jealous" is like personally inviting your slutty friend to fuck the guy you slept with like a month ago
Hey, don't think you remember me but we met last night. I'm conducting a survey this morning its only one question: Have you seen Rob since 1am?
I almost went home with him but then my hydroxycut fell out of my purse at the bar and I ran away
'TWAS BUT A GLORIOUS SIGHT. BITCHES.
I just want my paycheck, and my friends. And alcohol and tacos. Is that so much to ask?
Also, McDonald's breakfast is now 24/7. This is it. This is how I die. Face first in a pile of hashbrowns.
8 minutes into the New Year and and I've already sent a nude...new year, new me?
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