Every now and then I'll talk to a creeper for an extended amount of time. Randy, for instance, funded our entire night of horrible decisions.
His apartment number was 69. I had to.
This text is addressed to sober me: getting drunk by yourself may have seemed like a Good idea at first bit it can tell you that it wasn't ad fun as you thought it would be
Ps your lap top bag is FULL of empty beets
If you want to borrow my flask for all future interviews as a good luck charm because your last one went so well with it in your suit pocket, just let me know
I'm going to try to be reasonable tonight and keep my drink count out of double digits
Gold rum. Strong marijuana. Jabba the Hut in stilettos. Deep thigh bruise. Yes, thal all happened. Sorry dude.
Sometimes I envy you, when I'm not praying for your soul.
Lets start a coed nudist frat/sorority. It would be amazing. Or just an orgy club. It would also be amazing
Fuck I am so excited for the first time I can make someone call me Doctor Nikki during sex after I finish my PhD
I'm gonna celebrate Valentines day by watching Bob Ross videos and tripping balls.
Sooooooo, maybe just fucked on a motorcycle.
Let's drink lean at the 5 seconds of summer concert. Give the teens a glimpse into their future as dysfunctional adults holding desperately onto their youth. You in?
If I make it through this whole bridesmaid process without anyone knowing that I actually hate everyone but the bride, including the groom, I deserve a complimentary bottle of vodka.
Don’t drink the Bloody Mary - it’s vodka and salsa.
Don’t get me wrong—I love silver and bracelets—but handcuffs are not a good look on me…
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