There were 3 chicks in my bed I didn't know when I got home. Now I know all of them. Biblically.
Threw my underwear in my purse as I was running away after sex last night, went to pick up my birth control prescription this morning, took out my wallet and accidentally flung my sweet thong onto the counter in front of the cashier. Think that was the universes way of telling me I am a whore.
That's the last time I fill my pockets with sushi.
I decided that just having that story under my belt and being able to tell it to my grandchildren is worth the regrets of the evening.
I'm so used to throwing up its no longer a game of hanging over the toilet. Now it's just 'stand up, aim for the toilet, do my thing' then walk out
its was like we drinking an entire bottle of mystery
some guy i've known for a week sent me nudes saying "you're welcome" i need an award for this birthday
You were screaming across the bar "BUYING US SHOTS ISN'T GOING TO MAKE US STRAIGHT, YA KNOW!!!!!!!!"
I have vodka and a slip n slide so of you could come over that would be great
I just want a man to crawl into my bed with me and never crawl out. Anti socialism at his best.
I want to show up to tomorrow's study group looking like I got hit by a train. A train made of dicks.
My sober self will be embarrassed tomorrow. For now I am laughing my ass off.
The only time we had a decent conversation was when he was on acid, and, like, that's not a great start to a relationship.
Well yeah. But im not sure i trust the black out drunk high girl giving life advice
I wasn't going to drink. Then there was alcohol so I gave that up.
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