woke up with withdrawal cold sweats this morning. spring break must really be over.
you kept running around the room with a flask shouting "so much room for activities!" then someone tripped you and you passed out
I can't tell if I miss summer or 5 times a day sex more.
It's safe to say that bucket of tequila night can NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.
Her roommate texted her and told her that her cat died. Now she's double-fisting bottles of wine while howling and wailing her dead cat's name. Not how I pictured this booty call.
I only feel half bad for cheating on him because while we were fucking I was given great relationship advice and now I'm ready to work some things out.
I wish dancing around my house in my bra and underwear to Love Shack whilst eating strawberry cake batter was an acceptable form of exercise.
Next sat night Titanic party. Bring your floaties, trashy necklaces, and a large lung capacity. This ship is going downnnnnnn.
All hell broke loose. When the police showed up, this kid somehow haggled with a cop to let him pee in public. I'm convinced he could talk the panties off of a nun
I feel like my body was put in a dryer with rocks set on permanent press.
Ugh. I'm going to die alone, sister. Half-eaten by one of my thirty-seven cats and clutching a martini shaker
All im saying is that my face might fall off.
Mid-fucking he screams "YOU CAN'T VOTE FOR TRUMP"
I kept screaming that he looked like Khal Drogo and rode around the bar on his back.
It was like if the scent of sour milk and burning tires had a baby in taste form.
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