hey, here's something you don't have worry about since you're a girl: finding crusty cum in your bellybutton.
Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
New Low: Just set a reminder on my phone for me to check on things I need to harvest late on Farmville.
I hope you fall in a pool of honey in an immensely populated region of bears.
They're sharing a mixed drink at a bar with straws...its like a disney movie with booze
I've decided the third guy that I slept with is who I lost my virginity to...
you're not a real person. you're actually just like a box of wine that can talk
So help me Jesus we're never drinking together again. But weekends don't count. Amen.
In the 30 seconds it took me to leave the bar I let the barback motorboat me, ripped open a stranger's shirt and bit his chest, then made out with El Camino dude. No, I'm not coming out tonight.
If you end up at a gay bar on a tuesday night in steelers pjs, does that mean youve hit rock bottom?
Nothing quite like pre-gaming the Kentucky Derby with adderall and adderall. I'm fairly confident I could outrun all of these fucking horses in a foot race right now.
I ran into my parents house and stole a bottle of vodka last night...Apparently left them a note that read "DRUNK. TOOK VODKA. BRING MORE."
In my dream, you became a famous tap-dancer. Congratulations.
That rando I gave head to on the beach just endorsed me on LinkedIn for Oral Communication Skills. So there's that.
I'm never going out with the ashleys again. it was whoreible. terrifyingly whoreible.
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