we were both hunting dick last night. it ended terribly for both of us.
Bad news: I had to be at work at 7:15. Good news: no one had used the bathroom yet so I got to defile a freshly cleaned stall
he just told me his nickname was "nickexplodeon"
does that mean he doesn't last long?
My life is a requiem composed in the key of fuck.
I definitely did a line of something I don't know with a Pagan biker. I make good decisions.
corona bottle fell out of my backpack and broke in the middle of my physics midterm. yay me.
THIS TIME TOMORROW MY VAG IS GONNA BE BRAND SPANKING NEW.
somehow this turned into a costume party you have to get here now with my banana suit or I'm wearing my birthday suit
Bailey. He has a soul patch. Idgaf if he was an NFL player. Nobody with a soul patch is attractive.
IM DRINK YORE HIFH WE ARE POSTERCHOLD OF AMERICA
Only in my life does a conversation about Hanukkah lead to sexting
Come get your boy. He's cuddling with a bag of rice on the floor.
He offered to let her do a line of coke off his hard-on. She said she'd had that hard-on and it would be a bump, not a line. Everyone laughed. That's why he left.
So that answers the first question but not the second: how the fuck am I getting home?
I hid a TracFone in her bra. We'll find her tomorrow.
Can we throw a "death to my 20s" party when I turn 30?
Sure. Funeral attire and hard liquor
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