My whole home page is your drunken face booking, congrats.
I'm like a rollypolly, I only open my legs up when I feel safe.
She was narrarating everything she did.. like while making toast.
i checked my sent messages this morning and i had apparently tried to text the bar, saying "idk what i drank, do you?"
at least franzia made me throw up pretty colors.
At one point you starting double fisting oreos in your mouth confused about how you got out of the car
Our new roommate is sitting in the living room wearing a snuggie and clutching a handle of burnett's mixed with what appears to be crystal light and sobbing over a documentary about a dead race horse.
I know. Isn't she utterly fantastic?
the parade is in 5 days. put your big boy pants on and come to beer training. time to build your tolerance. i can't have you passing out in a bush with a cape on again this year.
I don't mean to complain but you could have done a better job of keeping me alive last night
Drinking, I should not. Got here I don't know. Still drunk, I am. At courtneys.
Fucken Tweens. They smelled like cotton candy and hand jobs my nostrils were offended.
I want to see boobs tonight. Like, real ones. Your ones.
I'm romantic.
That's why we have robots to masturbate for us
When they said they were gonna tattoo each other's gamer tags on their asses, I knew I no longer had a boyfriend.
Turns out naked yoga wasn't a pickup line. I feel betrayed.
Randomize
