Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
one should ask oneself what kind of lifestyle one is leading when one finds a handprint of semen on their pillow the next day.
i just got a clause named after me in the 'alcohol and drug use' section of the handbook. this is certainly a warning sign.
It's sad really how 5 am brings with it a distinction from drunken to pathetic.
The bank teller laughed at me....I'm apparently that fucking hungover looking
All I wanted was my $85. Judgement free. But nooooo
You mAke me stone. Stone fuck fucking stoned. I'm an stoned you cuz now fucking stoned stoned fucking stoned I stone.
I never actually go in the club. I get in line, hit on a chick, and convince her to come drink all she wants for free at my house.
I'm taking ecstasy it's gonna be that kind of Vegas trip
I'm facebook/twitter stalking the guy I just slept with as he's passed out next to me. What a time to be alive...
What can I say I sleep with 40 year old Cougars because my mother gave me away at birth and apparently that's why says my therapist
I did this clutch move yesterday at the bar where I grabbed a plastic cup for water and discreetly threw up in it while walking around and then tossed it. It was my best boot and rally ever
I have jizz, in my hair. I'm sitting in class with jizz. In. My. Hair. I need to make better life choices.
A real best friend would support the hoe in me. Not remind me of what happened the last time I slept with a boss
You tried to eat your way through the wall. Like you literally tried to eat drywall and insulation.
Woke up with a glow stick in my boobs this morning. Must've dominated Sunday.
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