i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
Steel Reserve is the RC Cola of alcohol. It's never ok.
see you put your penis in her and it's like an ignition key to start the crazy
it is 7:54 and i am surrounded by drunk old people. drunk enough that my grandmother and her friend just compared boobs. as in, shirts off, bras coming down. save me.
you're the best thing to happen to me. closely followed by learning to ejaculate, and drugs.
shes got that 'its my party i can do meth if i want to' mentality. i like that.
all i care about is the story behind my toaster ending up in the microwave
i got shots of sambuca dumped on my head last night. my bag still smells like licorice. making me nauseous.
it is a nice little reminder of the bruins dominance. if Vancouver had won, it would somehow smell of maple syrup.
They only knew me as the lesbian that passed out in a bathtub. That's not what you call friendship.
I woke up to him pissing in their fireplace with fairy wings on.
Within the hour, he sent me 8 texts and 4 voice memos. One of the memos was just him whistling for 3 minutes. ...It's official, I attract the crazies.
His name is Angel. I'm pretty sure he was sent from heaven solely to eat me out.
You told me you could hear my heartbeat through my penis but your methods were unethical.
Sixty five beats a minute. I stand by that.
My ultimate hope is that people will hug me, smell me, and therefore think I'm classy.
He fucks strippers and doesn’t have a life plan. Of course I’m going to regret this
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