i'm not a human right now. not even a dancer.
I just sneezed everywhere.....everywhere. Now no one will talk to me.
I think east. Tornado watch. What the fuck are you doing in Texarkana?
Bonnaroo. Tornado watch? Expand on that thought.
Watch for tornadoes.
I'm fucking him on the second date. I don't give a fuck what Patti Stanger says.
my mom found me this morning spread out like jesus sleeping on the living room floor. i had a piece of bread over my eyes to block the light out
Your ass just called me, someone was yelling "awful waffle" and also, " I don't know who's hands are who's anymore"
side note. good thing you didn't come to drunk breakfast. we were judged by children.
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.
begin the sex magic rocket ship countdown
This conversation has now reached a level of awkward that even a passerby streaking hobo couldn't break.
So that groomsmen was naked under his kilt. Also I just had sex in the elevator. And yes, those two updates are definitely related.
I'm beginning to think shitting his pants is just a normal thing for him.
I walked into the bathroom and there's this 6'5" cop washing his hands. He looks at me and goes, "Heard you singing outside. Sound real pretty."
No more tequila EVER.
I just kept hitting the drum to get thru the crowd to the bar. Surprisingly it worked
Sorry I wore your bra during sex last night
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