I ride home in a shopping cart. Don't at like you aren't jealous.
neither the pictures you took nor my hangover explain why there are skittles in my shoe
May or may not have just drunkenly opened my christmas presents. Greatly disappointed. Might break up sooner.
Rolling one last joint on my Psych textbook before trading it in. I might actually cry.
At least I cut out the pieces of your hair where I braided gum into it last night. Thank me later.
Listen up tinkerbell, You're gonna come to the bar, hit on some fat chicks, and step up when I punch someone in the face.
This morning my mouth tasted like fruit trees, battery acid, and magnums. Transferring schools was the best decision Ive ever made.
Please never let me the drunk fat dancer in the bus girl
It hits you later. Like when you wake up on the floor under a puzzle later.
I'm never drinking with you again. I woke up in Midtown with a 7' tall Norwegian rugby player named Lexie. Never. Again.
It's like my life is one of those movies where after a bunch of outlandish events that only happen in a movie the girl realizes her true life calling and lives a great life with a sexy man of multiple races. But I'm stuck in the fucked up part where 25 year olds come in their pants.
I'm sun burnt so instead of getting drunk and trying to sleep with you, how about we get naked and you scratch my body and rub lotion on me while I rub one out?
who the fuck is meatball and why is he telling you to nap on the bar
I wouldn't call us friends exactly. Honestly I just hang out with him so I can hit on his girlfriend. They won't last long, and I'll be there to pick up the scraps
Can't find my wig, my underwear, or my dignity. Halloween 2016
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