today was the first day of rush. talking to girls all day makes me sick of having a uterus.
He left with a pair of dress shoes, some goggles, and a shot glass. I think we should follow him.
I was also standing on my bed with a road cone pounding on the ceiling at 3am. Not sure why
I knew it was on when he was dancing on stage and I gave him a dollar so in return he ripped my tit out of my shirt and started sucking on it IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BAR.
I think making out with someone could be the cure to all my problems. That or more cowbell.
It's like, "you literally have no idea who i am but i definitely slept with your brother in your bed."
Blah blah blah. Just come home and put a baby in me.
I'm surprised, it's been so long you must be starving
At a certain point, the zombie-like hunger goes away. Then the sadness sets in. Then you start lying to yourself that you're taking some "me time." Then you remember you dodged chlamydia and Buddha knows what else. Then you're at peace with it.
Just beer bonged tequila, broke into the hotel next door and got chased by security. It's spring break
I can measure my amount of vomit in solo cups.
My talents include parallel parking and over reacting about absolutely everything.. And drinking..
I don’t know whether to call out sick or call in drunk
The walk of shame was so much longer today. i have to start fucking guys in my own postcode.
Dear Douchebag, I would just like to formally issue this fuck you. You will be receiving a letter in the mail soon. With all of your stuff.
I woke up in a warehouse with the words “Property of Adam” written on my chest in frosting.
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