i puked out the bus window last night on the way home. i remember it, but i don't remember everyone else screaming to put their windows up.
I called Tyra Banks a whore to her face. A sure sign I should go home. Instead I went to the gay bar.
I wish everyone could be as happy as the people in the laxative commercials.
Then we managed to set a grill and all 24lbs of meat on it on fire. I didn't help because I was filled with alcohol and extra flammable.
That girl you went home with last night was dressed in a bright blue sweats at the bar. 205lb Smurffete FTL. Boy were you in epic form.
His band may suck, but it's not like I'm sleeping with all of them.
Retelling stories from our semester makes me realize we need to get tested for herpes.
He turned down a handjob. A HANDJOB. I know I'm no Jessica Simpson, but...
Actually, she's fat now, so...
Fuck. I AM Jessica Simpson.
Just for future reference: milk is NOT a good mixer no matter how drunk you are.
that bitch in the red sedan is still teasing me with the ice cream cone. i'm going to show her my dick
I don't even know where to begin....there's queso sauce and public hair stuck to everything
Don't worry we will all be making bad decisions soon
That's the most comforting thing I've heard in months
Left and drinking by a bar by myself. Everyone is in pajamas. I'm in a tuxedo. This is my life.
My mom just told me the story of how she met my dad through prison. How was your saturday?
I want to find him again. His Corona tank top and I were made for each other.
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