ohhhh fuckk. chicks a dude.
I made the bartender pinky promise me there was still vodka in my drinks.
The extent of my physical activity is running from the cops.
We're sending your burrito through the mail slot.
so the last visual we have of him for the next 87 weeks is him outside on the ground rolling around yelling I HATE BLOWJOBS
There are pre-booty call contracts for a reason. I have no intention of calling you tomorrow.
Do you need my fax number or something?
Honest opinion...too aggressive to bring the funnel out to the bar? Also just so you know im at the bar. with the funnel.
My makeup looks extraordinary for nine tequila shots, running four blocks, falling asleep with my face in the toilet, and doing the walk of shame across campus in the rain. And to think I'm single.
As an added realisation of today. If we used the last time I got laid as a conceiving date I would have a two week old baby. It's been too long...
I don't know what to think. Also, I decided to take a bath...sorry in advance if I flood the bathroom.
Just woke up from a first date on the futon watching Arrested Development by myself, him cuddling another chick in his room. Simultaneously the best and worst one night stand in history.
Bonus: took me 2 hours to get home on the streetcar cause I spent my cab money on drinks for his friend last night.
I just soaked a sugar cookie in nail polish remover to clean off my nails because I was too lazy to walk to the bathroom to get a cotton ball. Is this what rock bottom feels like?
He pulled a bucket of fried chicken out of his backpack as a peace offering. Under the chicken was a rainbow bag of weed. We're dating again.
I'm high. I apologize for that last sentence
Come as you are, bitch. Glitter and vodka provided.
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