i am so afraid to go to the bathroom. i am afraid i am going to fall asleep on the toillet.
Special does not even begin to describe that text.
My jaw hurts. Such a slutty injury..
Hit a parked car with a "property of Jesus Christ" bumper sticker. Wrote out five hail mary's and left it on the windshield.
the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
Did you rob me and blame it on the strippers?
You left me with no money to have random Chicago sex. The least you can do is pick me up an egg mcmuffin on your walk of shame back to the hotel.
what the fuck is a social media consultant, who does she consult for, and how bad is she at it? her facebook account is currently hacked and posting ads for the ipad 2 on my newsfeed
Responsibility: Hiding your beer when your DWI clients who are out on bond come to talk to you at bars.
Tell me you didn't really piss in the hookah.
I need like a hormone stopper. Or a chastity belt. Or like a lady business alarm that goes off when I'm being too drunk.
Do you think you're physically and mentally capable of killing me? Because I'd really appreciate it.
I'm just waiting til he drunkenly pisses in his new man's car the way he always whipped it out and went Bellagio in mine.
His status said "sad." of course I liked it. I don't even care that I was the only one. Facebook isn't your god damn journal, we don't care about your problems.
Now it's a thing. He's kind of a creeper and now he's lotioning me. This is going to turn into a Buffalo Bull situation.
what the fuck happened to the tacos
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