Wow so 15 missed calls, a vm AND a text saying come downstairs? ...And where is downstairs? Explain.
he keeps calling me but I'm too scared to answer... Not sure what he's gonna yell at me for: barging into his room while he was with another girl, filling her shoes with dog food and water, or hiding his keys in the garbage disposal.....
she has a picture of her daughter riding a giant rooster.. of course i want to make obscene cock jokes
Woaahhhh there! We are JUST drunk fucking. Don't call me "baby".
I really need to create fewer "the time I was on drugs" stories for my future memoir, "my first year in San Francisco".
good luck with that
They put 3 tbs of cinnamon in vodka shots and called it the "cinnamon death challenge"
Saved a second guy who was crying/on the verge of wigging out. Just call me the drug whisperer.
I wound up gambling on giant connect four with the bartender. I think he saw my boobs.
I think the only context in which I'd be comfortable being kidnapped is by a band of baby sloths
Whiskey and tits go great with anything. Especially fire.
Oh, and let me go get some popcorn, watching you make your own decisions should be quite the shitshow.
Im including "no monologues past 1am" in the list of apartment rules. Theatre majors dude.
lol I'll trade you jello for a tampon
what a trade!
MDMA IS GREAT AND YOU WERE THE WORST GIRLFRIEND EVER.
I just used my sisters cheerleading plaque and a children's book to crush up painkillers to snort. Happy Friday
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