There's a girl here with sideburns. I gave her your number, you can thank me later.
stop calling my apartment porn island.
my text book just quoted the cookie monster
I just witnessed two drunk midgets fighting over a graham cracker. I can die happy now.
our night together was a product of my beer goggles and jennifer aniston-like desperation.
I don't remember much, but my night is dated pre-Jaeger and post-Jaeger. Also, my boss may or may not have tucked me in.
I have effectively turned laundry day into a drinking game.
Yep. It's going to be us, strippers, and drag queens.
A glittery, gay, heavily makeuped, scantily dressed clusterfuck.
I'm going to text my booty call and tell him nevermind, that I got the job finished by myself. That will teach him to text back faster.
This lesson is brought you by a psychology class.
I just spent 20 minutes in a Subway trying to take a candid photo of the doppleganger of the guy I lost my virginity to instead of eating. That's all the evidence I need that my life is on track.
the girl whose rug I peed on is here
I lose my morals, my dignity, and my selfie stick :(
I'm still questioning who dropped me off last night. So successful wedding?
not only was there glitter in the toilet after i peed, but there was some on the toilet paper after i wiped. this cant be healthy.
drinking vodka out of a wine glass to feel a little bit classier about myself.
Randomize
