I called Tyra Banks a whore to her face. A sure sign I should go home. Instead I went to the gay bar.
god damn woman. you are like the herpes of drunk texting. you never go away.
just found more coke in my pocket. i love not washing my jeans after every individual use.
all she had left on were here heels. phone five
yeah that always happens. i'm like the where's waldo of parties. i never even know where the fuck i'm at.
you know its bad when everytime i put on a shirt i think of who i hooked up with in it
The good news is the bleeding stopped. I think I'm going to sober up before I tell you the bad news though.
Sober me is really good at getting to the airport on time. Drunk me is really good at shitting my pants. Do you know how much pants cost at the airport????
First of all, I don't like eggnog. Second of all too much rum is all bad. And thirdly I'm not there to sit in your lap and pretend you are Santa and I've been a bad girl.
So I commented on one of his pictures "who do I have to give a full effort blow job to, to get the Ides of March movie poster behind you" he responded with a number that wasn't his. I still texted it. I love that movie.�
The party got busted because you two got caught having sex on the neighbors trampoline, come on man.
I got blood in my smoothie but it still tastes ok. Fuck glenfiddich.
Steve, that episode of cops where your dealer rear-ended that family is on again.
He said something last night about making crepes, but after getting pissed on in bed, I question everything.
Did you pee in the oven last night??
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