So drunk can't even tell it's my own house. WOaoOw.
No, he grudge fucked my ex so I wouldn't be tempted to get back with her. He is either the worst or best friend ever.
Very hungover, bought a newspaper and found my shorts from last night in the machine.
All i've done since I got back to my room today is take a three hour nap. Like, I even planned to change my pants and haven't even done that yet.
I'm sure that's not what the inventers of the Turkey baster had in mind, but that's what I had in mine.
Let's make a pact to never get in a cab at 3am together unless it's to go home or for pizza.
it's a "shave your legs in the cvs bathroom" kind of night
I have three paper towels stuck up my vagina. This is not a time to be calm.
Pre-drinking/conditioning my liver for this impending hurricane party associated with cat. 2 hurricane Irene. Be ready to roll in a weather channel minute.
i came so hard i kicked through my windshield
I fell asleep after the worst sex of my life and now I'm snowed in with him. SEND HELP. CALL FEMA. GET ME OUT OF HERE.
She's the perfect storm of great hair, big boobs, intellectualism, and mild moral ambiguity.
In other news: I massively over-caffeinated this morning. Everything is vibrating and I can SEE THROUGH TIME
Listening to sad Lana Del Rey songs together is an integral part of the lesbian bonding process
you have 30 seconds to convince me not to grab this guy's crotch in front of his girlfriend
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