I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
she just stood in the kitchen yelling "REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES"
Oh and you pulled your pants down outside in front of like five people, held my hand, then peed.
I vaguely remember walking down the highstreet with a plate of K offering lines to passers buy. I sold a line to a taxi driver.
Dude in front of me just jumped out of line at Starbucks to go puke. Vegas in prime form.
I think that the jello shots in bowls is where it all went wrong.
I swear to god, if you fuck the hot one you're paying me back for the shot I just bought her
I think the Predator is hunting me in my house. If I don't text you later, send Danny Glover. I love you all.
Do you think if 10 year old us knew that we would be passing out in a McDonalds after a hefty night of drinking, and 23 McChickens, they'd change anything?
FYI: Brian said he left me in the bathroom Friday night to shower and 45 minutes later found me with a towel around my head, my pants on and holding my boobs. No more Jell-O shots for me.
YOU HAVE BEEN BAD TOUCHED BY THE LEPRECHAUN OF CHOICES
I don't think I've ever had this many people offer me blow before. 3 o'clock on a Thursday. I keep good company.
Ugh I feel like I just got hit by a big giant sex bus.
Pretty sure this radio station is run by a cult. Good thing it's in Spanish, can't brainwash someone who can't understand you.
Came up to an intersection and someone was blasting My Chemical Romance at like 9 AM. They're DEFINITELY having a good day
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