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.
All the good ones are taken. All that's left is the Harry Potter geek or the asshole in the corner. I think I'll settle for Harry Potter.
I'm praying to Jesus, Allah, Buddah,and the whole gang tonight that I'm not pregnant
I told him that he could only go home with me if he didn't talk or tell me his name
Just wanted to let you know that I always win at "whose ex is crazier" because of you.
Found him. He was passed out on the couch at the new place in a room full of burnt pizza smoke.
I am nonfunctional stoned. I had to ask ben to put me somewhere away from all the people I'm sitting on someones bed watching a wall. Not alright. Should not have come.
I don't like him near enough to give up day drinking AND my prostitute costume
Sorry for the milk in the bathroom. I was washing mace out of the one security guys eyes
But can mardi gras accurately capture the essence of my tiny rage?
I think I puked in the middle of sex last night if that's any indication as to how drunk I was.
I'm not sure if I should pay him or he should pay me, but someone should get paid for the sex I had this morning.
may or may not have entered into a gay civil rights discussion with 6 year olds. Hint: I did.
Hey I know we haven't talked in a while, but I wanted to thank you for those m&ms you bought me for Christmas. Sorry I never got you anything then broke up with you.
We should write a country song: “Blacked Out on a Sunday”
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