I love being friends with rich people. I get laid by association.
you spent the like half the night trying to figure out the puzzles on the back of the captn crunch box
you threw up in the bushes next to the ABC store and kept saying "you're home, blueberry vodka, you're home!"
The irony of calling it Pride is that you do things that no one should be proud of.
i'm calling it girls night to make myself feel better but lets be real.....i wasn't going to get any guys tonight regardless
My only regret is not throwing up on the conveyor belt in the dining hall
and then we all passionately sang "what if god was one of us" until everyone passed out in the grass
BABIES FOR EVERYONE. I'd be like Oprah except with babies
You went full blown lifeguard... You wouldn't let me sleep until I was in the safety position, so I wouldn't die in my sleep...
Nothing says Merry Christmas like gifting a bottle of rum and finishing it yourself then leaning over at the dinner table to puke it back up.
I suggest absurd amounts of masturbation this weekend to build up the necessary calluses
And what in gods fuck were you drinking. It tasted like windex with a mixture of juce
We were drunk waiting for tacos and I gave him a handy in the back of the Uber while giving the driver relationship advice. I think I'm handling the whole grad school thing alright.
I was covered in mud from my knees down, I smelt like the inside of a port-a-potty and only had mascara on one eye. . . so you know your usual Sunday brunch.
I once went to target high on hydrocodone. I assure you, they can handle unrespectable.
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