I think he may have called me a bar rat, jokingly. I said i was but in a non-trashy way.
I just blew my nose and little bits of weed came out.
Everyone makes mistakes, yours just means you will forever be known as the chick that tried to steal a cheese plate from the funeral.
I shouldn't be home alone with this much peanut butter and the dog. I feel like i'm being recorded to see when my desperation will peak.
I'm not leaving bed today. And i guess my drunken ass last night hit my roommate in the face with a tiki torch then proceeded to cry while carrying around a picture of he who must not being name. I'm a piece of work.
I feel like butter and tequila would be excellent combination. Right now. Please do this in my name.
The packers need to win more often, Andrew keeps drunk calling me and confessing his undying love for me in between puking and taking more shots.
I've come to the conclusion that Jesus and 2013 are haters.
There's cereal in my underwear. Was I in your apartment at any time last night? That's the only logical explanation for this.
He said I looked like a ballsack and I tried to choke him out with my Ghostbusters pajama pants. Happy fucking Halloween.
We were banging then all I remember is coming down hard and smashing my top teeth off his forehead. I just rolled off and tapped out. Done-zo
I'm beginning a new chapter of my life in which our fridge will always be stocked with jello shots. I'm excited to embark down this road to fruity, semi-solid alcoholism.
I'm not gonna swipe right, he has better hair than me. Just no.
None of these texts make sense. except for "step 2.5 equals velociraptor." that i get.
All I fucking want right now is a cheeseburger the size of my face
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