You can call me Bill Clinton. I brought 2 good looking Asians home last night.
I puked last after eating a volcano taco and drinking vodka. I felt like a fucking dragon.
Does making ice cubes at 4 in the morning count as being productive?
Someone spilled vodka all over the elevator floor. Bring straws.
New rule: gentleman callers are required to bring me gifts of beer when coming over to court you. Tell the monster jam dudes so they know.
Welp, I can cross "making out with a guy in a dress" off my bucket list...
Just cried to my husband about how much I'm going to miss my boyfriend... Maybe marriage is going to work for me after all
I was a plus one at an intervention for a person I didn't know.
He was like low grade Riff Raff, but I hit it. Twice. His grill popped out the second time.
You leaned over to me in the elevator and whispered "how long do I have to pretend to be sober?"
I answered the booty call in my Trophy Wife cutoff and my ex-boyfriends sweatpants with a bottle of jager.
and how was that received?
She's kind of holyer-than-thou, like god himself came down and said "please cock block your roommate at every opportunity, and if you think she's thinking of sex, tell her she's a whore"
low point of the night : a cop just busted out laughing at me.
I thought this boy told me to choke him, so I went all in. Turns out he really said “stroke.”
Jesus christos I come home and am treated like my vagina is made of gold
Either that or it dispenses candy
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