I'm gonna write a book, Things that go bump in the night: The story of Katelyn. Chapter one, my roommate is a dumb whore.
I just wiped my face with a slice of bread. Lowest point of the night.
Please make the clown in the corner stop judging me. I mean he's the one with paint on his face. I don't need him judge judying me.
You got into a heated argument about Frankenstein's intelligence while double fisting burritos from taco bell.
This is a sacred holiday in the land of the free! I do what I want!
So they just told me that while I was being loaded into the ambulance the cop told them if they were good friends they'd post it on Facebook...
The subtweets were good enough
Henceforth: booty calls will now be referred to as "deliveries of anatomy". That is all.
I'm so annoyed. We're about to buy groceries for the week and at this point I'm hoping to sustain myself on pure alcohol.
Do you hit a new low in life when you have to carry around a puke bag in your purse when you're hungover?
I feel like I'm in a development meeting for a Lifetime original movie.
Yeah, I'm sure we have time for sex AND ihop.
I AM BEING ACCOSTED BY A HUMMING BIRD
I AM IN MILD DISTRESS
I would say don't do anything I wouldn't do, but we both know I forget about my personal safely when getting laid is on the line
It's a herpes check up not a beauty pageant
she keeps trying to brush her hair with leaves and insisting she's not high
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