i got your date sluuuuuuut pick up my calls or else hes mine
ugh. my friday night is playin' Farmville on my face. time to harvest the blackheads...
i'm waiting for the less fat version of him to text me
The only dream I remember having is one where my dad's sperm turned into baby hippos. Like, tiny baby hippos, pocket-sized. I am so fucked up.
She forced me to throw up so it would "rejuvenate" me. It worked and then we took six more shots and did a keg stand. You know what I call that? Friendship.
It's been a wonderful constant drunkeness. We played Marco polo with some random like 8 yr olds in the kiddie pool.
I'm so hungover all I can do is stare at my curser and hope it starts moving on its own
too late I already started a fight with someone named luscious
I think there's an ice cream truck out back, but there's no way I can get pants on in time to catch it
As long as you don't want to make a shrine out of my eyelashes It's all good
It's taking every bit of my restraint not to go to the store and buy chips and cake and like steal someone's dog. PMS is so weird.
The number of threesomes I have agreed to seems to increase every time I talk to you drunk...
She told me I was absolutely not allowed to sleep with him even though she knows I'm a rule breaker who loves a good challenge.
You're now part of the minority of friends who haven't seen my boobs.
My last memory of last night was being in a laundry room doing blow and admiring a washer and dryer... I think that's the earmark of old age
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