there was 12 of us, girls included, shirtless and wielding swords as we bet on rock paper scissors in the middle of the bar. It was like Cinco de Mayo version of the Deer Hunter
I sent him a pic of my tits and he said "Word." I need a drink.
He brought wine and beer. I'll put my pants on for wine and beer.
New rule. No seeing movies about plane crashes after killer bong rips
I'm using my breathalyzer result sheet as a coaster for my 40.
I'm surprised, it's been so long you must be starving
At a certain point, the zombie-like hunger goes away. Then the sadness sets in. Then you start lying to yourself that you're taking some "me time." Then you remember you dodged chlamydia and Buddha knows what else. Then you're at peace with it.
That's how you know it was a good night if two months later you finally realized your skirt never made it home and you found out where it was.
Waking up in a NH rest stop and reading through my texts is definitely a familiar low
Had the best sex Thursday night then Friday night I met his girlfriend. The worst thing is we became friends like she gave me her number.
Just once I'd like to go out and not have to tell you to put your pants back on.
So when did "Are you okay?" translate into "Don't tell me you got fucked by another rando after another rager"?
there is partying, then there is whatever we did last night.
I HAVE A TEST I'M SORRY YOUR UN SUCKED DICK ISN'T MY FIRST CONCERN
Shut up. I hate you. We're doing shots tomorrow. Fuck the consequences.
please god let this picture I just uploaded not have my vagina in it
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