we're blogging at a bar
four days late. damn you, makeup sex. you win again.
I kept feeling my boobs..just to make sure they were still there.
Woke up with my face in a bowl of cereal. This is tequila's way of saying fuck you.
Just so you know, this text is a buffer between the two guys I'm sexting. Can't get that shit messed up.
Exactly. So you're exempt under the "I can't just fuck her to make it go away" clause of 2010.
And then you proceeded to sneak behind thee bar and hold up an empty bottle of vodka and scream LOOK WHO THE BARTENDER IS NOW BITCH!
pretend your vagina is a choco taco and the guy is someone who really loves choco tacos. let him enjoy the choco taco.
No more stories ab the wkend for co-workers... No one else found "and I didn't have pants on when I got home Saturday night" as funny as I did.
Pain in my heart, regret in my vagina
Molly was fun. I was in a captain planet onesie in Wal-Mart talking to everyone haha
I thought he was a lobster and that the moon was going to pull me through him.
I don't think I should try acid.
Can I make sure all my sluttiness goes to you when I die? You're the only person I know who'll make use of it
Remember when we thought adulthood would be different than college?
It is different. We had hopes and dreams back then. Now we're just alcoholics.
you said you didn't feel like drinking anymore so you mixed vodka with your applesauce and ate it
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