I've decided to film a documentary centered around how he manages to keep that beast caged in such tight pants
my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
I'm starting to blur the boundary between reasonable senioritis and self-destruction. Somewhat-openly hittin the flask in 11am class
This guy either needs to stop touching me or buy me another drink.
So high I started crying because I was proud of Snoop Dogg for becoming Snoop Lion
but it was less of a make out and more of a goodnight kiss as a "thanks for giving our drunk asses a ride home and sorry we called your bar the worst bar in LA"
You texted me a picture of your face along with #help
I shit you not. I was sitting on Brian's balcony...still drunk from the night before, and a hummingbird flew onto the patio, stared me right in the face and flew away. I feel like it was God's way of telling me, "Stop drinking."
at one point, i told him to buy you a pumpkin spice latte and uggs because you're a common white girl and that's how he should get you in bed
Going to put that on my resume. "Only accidentally snapchatted my titties to all of my friends once."
I left my ice cream out over night, it's melted, fuck this, I just poured Bailey's in it. Problems solved.
It's something you'd find in the room outside of Ben Carson's sex dungeon
Thanks for ruining my life with your man penis
I feel awkward having to tell people “sorry you can’t finger me because I will get a UTI and I don’t have health insurance”
I don't know whether to cheer for the free bourbon, or cry from the screaming children.
Randomize