I haven't worn deodorant in like three days and have been laying around in my underwear listening to music and drinking. I think i've made my own Bonnaroo in my apartment.
can't come out tonight. went to the bar again last night and the bartender hugged and thanked me so much for my "generosity." I'm intrigued but terrified to see my credit card bill.
at least 'blackout me' had enough sense to take the puke covered duvet off the comforter.
I decided that I do the same thing when i'm drunk with every guy who has a girlfriend...lecture them on how bad cheating is, then hook up with them. I'm like good cop, bad cop.
After so many times of carrying your puked covered clothes home in a bag on a Tuesday morning, you begin to realize that Fucked Up Mondays aren't a real thing.
Ps this homeless dude just came in hotel bar w a sword sticking out his jumpsuit trying to buy a drink w a 3rd party check
I feel like I got run over by a bus full of inebriated Scotsmen on the way to a soccer riot.
Definitely just realized I wore a shirt that says "building leaders for Christ" to a hookup. Roll tide.
all I know is this drummer better stop eye fucking me while he plays cowbell. it is way too early for that.
just reached the point where my breast implants paid from themselves in free drinks.
literally took my pants off in the middle of bourbon last night without taking off my heels im a super human i guess
I loaned him a tie and then had to tie it for him. I'm like his weird lesbian girlfriend.
Instead of texting me to come over, she just sends me a batman symbol.
I don't care if she's a booty call. Marry her.
I met up with trey last night. He whispered in my ear "I love you" then raised his voice and said "but not in a I want to marry you kind of way, but if you died I would cry."
He had a temporary tattoo of Justin Bieber on his dick and I still had sex with him
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