It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
Maybe i shouldn't have told him the key to getting in my pants was double vodka sodas and Nelly's song "grillz."
I'm like 99% sure I made out with Kevin Spacey last night. Not good.
time for a it's-monday-night-and-this-week-is-gunna-suck-drink.
Just so everyone's clear, it was already on fire when I got there.
THEY'RE. IN. YOUR. BED. THEY RANDOMLY SHOW UP. AND GET IN YOUR BED.
But seriously, I hug most of my drug dealers.
You went through my pantry and left one of everything in the box. One cracker. One cheesit. One piece of cereal. I really fucking hate you.
So bored. I think I've expelled every last gram of jizz from my body.
Pro: Drunk Portland Strip Club. Con: Monday morning hangover at work. Pro: boobs. Con: Sleep deprivation. The Pro's are winning.
I would agree. Add some coffee to the booze. It will cut down on sleep deprivation.
I thought it was improvement but then i realized sex isn't an emotion and I hate everyone
Are u guys proud? I puked my brains out last night at a strip club. While my two fave strippèrs held my hair
I may have just tried to argue quantum entanglement as the reason I was still in her bed.
This was the fourth year in a row I got arrested at Pride. Pretty sure that qualifies me as a legend.
I've sent two unsolicited tit pictures in less than 24 hours. I'm the female version of a fuckboy.
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