I'm tuning in to watch Heidi Montag crash and burn on the Miss Universe Pageant. Somebody call 911. and I'm not talking about the Sean Kingston song.
Just checked an empty cooler on the flight to Notre Dame. You don't have to tell me you're jealous, I already know.
And we should impose a 'friends don't let friends order 25 shots at last call' rule
listening to the two girls in the next stall finish a 40 and laugh at this guy they both fucked. they're calling him 'tulip dick'.
he broke into my appartment and left me a waffle maker...
Who knew that one of those cheesy light up equalizer shirts would be the light that all those drunk college girls gathered like moths around?
I'm in a pile of cheezits at an unfamiliar location watching dateline on tlc. Stage an intervention.
oh wow I have been there. Hell one time Matt and I woke up naked with pizza rolls in the bed.
Oh my god I forgot there were Band-Aids on my nipples
Btw, do you want me to fix this with a box of wine and a chick flick or is this more of a 'lets head to the strip club' problem? I'm just trying to analyze the emotional depth of the situation.
I love you. We're gonna celebrate your 21st by putting people in duct tape bikinis and pushing them down tequila slip and slides
my hand froze to the top of can of beer cuz i fell asleep outside. i decided to find a way to open the bottom of the can before addressing my severe frostbite. PRIORITIES!
i am laugh crying so hard the guy next door stopped playing guitar
DON'T YOU TELL ME I HAVE HERPES ON MY BIRTHDAY. THAT IS MOST DEFINITELY NOT A HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
Thank you for listening to my rant about tacos.
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