I think I'm going to die by hangover. I'm in my spanish class. So I guess I'm going to be muerte.
I hijacked a bellboy cart and rolled into the party dancing on it
if I just puked into my own hand, but then cleaned it up quickly, quietly, and calmly, am I still a trainwreck?
Being home sucks. I haven't drank in like a week. Or smoked cigs. Or done drugs. Or had sex. My body is shutting down.
Omg. It's like you're one of those deprived kids living in a third world country. We need to save you.
I mean it was his birthday. How was I supposed to tell him he could not wear a sombrero while we bang.
Also, I guess I made friends with the guy who caught me peeing behind a bush.
you were crying saying "if you love me you will find me a loaf of bread"
Champagne pong turned into an expensive and painful experience.
A warmed up burrito and jelly beans. The breakfast of champions.
Watching a bear prancing around in a tiara is worth a loss of bar time.
My move is emasculating men with my superior intellect and it's not as charming when they can't see my huge rack.
I'll like his pictures on Instagram every once and a while so that when he sees my name he is reminded of the best blow job he's ever gotten.
HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE TROPHY HUSBAND! I WAS GOING TO BE THE SUCCESSFUL ONE!
I don't care how hot he is. I will not strip for him to country music.
When I get off work and you're not around to hang out with all I do is lay around in my underwear and eat potatoes.
Randomize
