Apparently mediocre decisions were made last night. I woke up alone in my own bed with my fridge defrosted.
And I didn't go to bed alone. I am buckets of fail.
cannot fit in my clothes. too depressed to drink.
if you drink enough to puke, it's like a weight loss plan.
A girl just asked me to co-sign for her boob job because she didn't have enough credit built up. This is a first.
After the tests come back negative, you guys will look back on this evening with fond memories...
I'm having horrible flashbacks of being groped by Pauly Shore.
Step 1: drink. 2: drink more. 3: go for it. 4a: success. 4b: drink more. 5. drink. 6. go for other girls. 7. drink more. Sound good?
I want to wear something that says I'm a lady (but I have condoms!)
What did he say?
NOTHING. GODDAMN HIM AND HIS MAGICAL PENIS!
i was the only bi girl at the frat party. i felt like the last cresent roll at thanksgiving
I'm at the point where I'm more upset that he got to keep my bottle of Fireball than that he stopped talking to me with no explanation
I'm two shots in and wandering around Barnes and Noble with $58 in singles.
I'm worried about your health. And your boobs. Actually, health, then boobs. Health first, boobs second. And third.
MDMA IS GREAT AND YOU WERE THE WORST GIRLFRIEND EVER.
You'll never fully grasp an awkward walk of shame until you run into his mom while you're trying to sneak out. Then to make matters worse you have to ask her to mover car because it's blocking you in.
and I lost my effing shirt.
I imagine you as a cat holding your burrito with two paws and cutely eating it
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