My Hamptons summer hookup resume reads like a walk-in clinic waiting list.
Silently passing ghastly beer farts as I move around the bridal department at Tiffany's. Call it my contribution to the holiday spirit.
He has a chalkboard tally in his bathroom of "Me vs. Toilet". He's losing.
I guess you don't remember pouring tequila in the dog bowl and slurping it.
I really should sober up and deal with this hangover
It seems to be one of those life decisions I'm perfectly content never making though
I have a meeting at work in an hour, I'm so hungover going outside is NOT happening there are roads and shit I'll totally get myself killed.
Aww. I feel like I need to kill a puppy just to make room in the world for how cute you are right now
Confession: Sometimes I wear my stolen scrubs to the corner store because people will think I'm a doctor and not just a girl too lazy to change out of her pajamas.
You know you're old when tea and a hot bath are more appealing than beer pong with lesbians.
Bless her heart. Her stupid, drunk, adderall-ed heart.
Next time a random bus filled with santas pulls up to the bar, I'm not getting on it.
You've never really lived until you tell someone you have an STD over snap chat.
Do not ever look at a picture of an erect ostrich penis. You will regret it.
Looks like taco salad for lunch. I may have died and gone to be better circle in hell than I thought.
I don't actually like you. I just want to hook up with you.
I'm fine with that
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