Thank God for loud music. There is a circus in my butt right now.
Disregard any previous text from the past 12 hours. Except for the one about scoring a strike while drunk bowling. Remember that one.
Spotted: woman loading franzia into a toddler-sized shopping cart for her child to push. Beautiful.
Everything sucks i just wanna cry and smoke a bowl and pet my cat and die. All at the same time
I just ate a can of beans for dinner so I can afford to go get a 5$ bottle of wine. I really did not think these choices would still be necessary at age 25.
You made a glowstick headband with a helium balloon tied around it and climbed a tree in high heels. I was impressed.
He told me he felt like he was just pistol-whipped by Testicle Man.
I peed my pants walking home last night... I just kept walking.
Dead. I am actually dead. Also, worst nightmare confirmed: throwing up in a four hundred person lecture.
Thank you for trusting your ovaries to me
We have a great relationship based on communication, sex, and mutual loathing.
Thank you for holding my butt in a non-sexual manner when its cold. I appreciate you and your warm hands.
He called my vagina his wife... how is that NOT creepy?!
because nothing says “let’s fucking rage” like getting a compensation letter and some company stock
Thanks for driving us home last night. Also, blanket apology for anything I may have said/done. I blacked out sometime near the t-shirt cape incident
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