My astrological sign? Vagitarius.
there's paper in my vomit.
he showed up at my house with a hand-stiched sweater that said "girlfriend?"
you drank 3/4s of your half gallon of vodka, made a fort out of the kitchen table, and actaually had sex in in it.
My mom is lecturing me about 'invaluable housekeeping skills' while I google 'cocktails involving gin' on my phone. I can feel the generational gap looming in her silent judgment of my choices.
A horseman, i repeat, a man on a horse downtown just told me i was gorgeous and my friends were not. Not drunk enough.
As part of the off-hours team building exercises, I had my new coworkers figure out to push me back to the hotel from the nearby bars in a shopping cart every night for a week.
i am one fart away from being 2 for 2 on this whole shitting my pants thing.
I'm going to start referring to my liver is Livy. I feel like if I give it an affectionate nickname it will hate me less. Livy isn't ready for syllabus week.
I think we all know your liver needs a man's name.
We got buck wild in our animal onesies last night. You kept ripping off your tail in angry rages.
we need to invent and abuse teleportation
So here's my pathetic thought of the day: what does it smell like to be sober?
Did my extra credit for a class I badly need to pass at the bar of Friday's.. kind of sum's up my college career. Got a 90 though.
I doubt the gods of funday Sunday would exact such a high price... But it's good to know an afternoon with me is worth a left foot.
I can't wait to see you again. It will be like when we first started dating- but with less clothes.
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