Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
thanks for not screaming that I'm pregnant when that guy was giving me his number.
you told him you liked to chip your nail polish to look like different countries. im gonna guess that no, you didn't sleep with him.
I smoked weed with pregnant girl. I'm going to hell.
The only comparison I have for the iPhone is that it's like youre constantly getting a blow job
My night sucks. It's really hard to masturbate with a broken finger.
It looks like the misc $300 credit card fraud might have been our taxi cab driver who wouldn't take boobs as payment. No wonder...
he shit on the floor last night i'm not venturing down there
I kept having to give myself encouraging advice like, "you know how a path works"
Now that it's fall I have to prepare for the imminent arrival of ripped up sweatpants shoved into folded over sequined uggs
Showing girls my stab wound was not the brilliant idea I thought it was.
Not exactly hook line and sinker right away, but I'll give him a second chance. I should sext him me in my blue shark onesie.
My face feels like a midget just gave birth to quintuplets
i’m blowing bubbles in my bloody mary so yeah it’s pretty much time to go
What doesn't this kid understand that our relationship is not going past the blacked out blowjob I gave him on his birthday?
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