No, asshole. I'm not gay. But if I was I think I would do better than fucking Nick Lachey.
All I know is it had something to do with a plunger and tuna salad. I'm done. I'm quitting my job.
I brought up my Bobbly Flay drinking game in the interview. Of course I got the job.
Um. That's my cat Laura. You put my cat in your mouth, and then you put my cat in your purse.
I should not be in class today. For the professors sake.
This morning I learned I traded my sunglasses for a Big Lebowski sticker at the football game.
I think I sprained my soul last night
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
Apparently he took me home and I pulled up my senior pictures on fbook and made him guess what I was thinking during each different pose.
MY roomie made me a chinese name- it's supposed to mean 'the girl of a thousand sins.'
First time at a gay bar. I found a surrogate AND sperm donor! The surrogate is straight, so it evens out.
I wouldn't marry anyone who wouldn't symbolically fuck a doughnut with a sausage though.
I decided to do drugs in front of her because if anyone can handle the truth it's a ghost
I appreciate the fact that you sent me a snapchat of your dick soaking in a cup of water.
I've also stopped shaving, like, everything. I can't tell if I'm empowered or sad
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