party is dying down. we just wrote whore in the yard with gas. Photos to come.
If I ever start a band I'm gonna name it "Nancy Reagan's Vagina"
my text book just quoted the cookie monster
I'm home with mono, wearing knee high socks, shorts, a stained old shirt, and a surgical mask. He comes over ANYWAY with soup, a gas mask, billions of DVDs, and eats me out. He's either stupid, whipped, or i'm just THAT good.
I don't make the first move. Ever. Unless were playing monopoly cause that's my shit
the only thing keeping me going right now is the knowledge that in 2 hours i'll be drunk at the circus.
I need to shotgun another beer. Where's the machete?
She literally got down on all fours and I swear did a 360 degrees head rotation exorcist barf...and then moaned IT WAS THE TACO BEEEELLLLLL
so no, not her best night
I'm still in my ugly sweater and underwear drinking coffee next to a plate of assorted treats we stole from the party. I got a new sweater by the way, its shoulderpad-y and looks like a news anchor got thrown up on by Liberace. I'm pretty proud.
Does it count as working out if stops are taken every half hour to smoke a blunt?
6 tequila shots, 3 kamikazes and 1 rumplemintz.. The next day I puked in my office trash can while doing payroll. I may have to dock my own pay for lack of class.
Just FYI, by the transitive property my breasts have now touched the Stanley Cup.
The only people allowed to make me cry are myself and Chris Hemsworth as Thor. And me.
Stories. There's stories.
MEGHAN YOU'VE BEEN THERE FOR 20 MINUTES
just passed a kid drinking a beer at 2pm. clearly it's the last day of break.
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