i think i gave myself a perma-hangover. or god just hates me.
I wish they made helmets for livers.
duuuude. vodka popsicles DO NOT function.
He shit in the bushes next to the pool at the Venetian, after throwing up in the hallway. You really can do anything in Vegas.
You don't even know the meaning of faking an orgasm until you sleep with an uncircumcised ginger.
the girl walking home behind me started yelling and pointing "i want an ass like hers!" i feel vaguely accomplished.
He never gives up. He's like the fucking little engine that could of hook ups
I'll even be awesome and bring pizza for your family, just as a "hey thanks for letting a stranger get trashed at your house" gesture.
Well his arms broken so they only cuffed his good wrist to his belt. That's how he cast smacked me in custody.
One minute you were celebrating, the next you were bleeding all over your Nikes.
We exchanged snapchat usernames instead of numbers. Is that what America has come to?
I feel like people expect me to always be a sarcastic, shade throwing drunk. And you know me, I hate to disappoint.
If I don't answer right away it's because I took an Adderall and the fridge needs cleaned.
All I know is I woke up with my apartment door wide open, naked, and I poured an entire bottle of Advil on my bed to sleep in.
It's National Whipped Cream Day, prep those nips
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