My place. Tomorrow Night. Bring your liver, and something for it to do.
I forgot to mention I threw up in my wine glass AND my neighbors empty cup.
Oh, and my friends believe you should reimburse me for the brazilian that was gone to waste.
Currently microwaving whipped cream to make white Russians and hotboxing the kitchen while this random kid is dancing in the corner.
It's cheaper then a lap dance and you get your hair cut.
There was a half eaten cheeseburger on my coffee table. Guess I made it to McDonald's.
I'm convinced that the Christmas lights in my room contributed to the great sex.
My brain is like scrambled eggs. If scrambled eggs were trying to escape out of my skull through my forehead.
Hooker in the library. I repeat, we have a hooker in the library. This is not a drill.
Filthy. I need to be power hosed with holy water.
What happened to my face?
You kneed yourself in the eye during the Harlem Shake.
It was impressive.
I think if my mom ever finds out about my nipple piercings I'll just be like "mom, tbh it's a sex thing"
The Vicodin is in the strawberries.
I really love you. Like, more than tequila...& we both know that's my favorite.
How was I supposed to know the accent was fake before i slept with him
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