You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
we were in your room and your mom was singing twinkle twinkle little star in the hallway. so you decided to scream "twinkle? TWINKLE! What Fucking little star?!"
This morning my doorman told me it was an accomplishment for me to be standing and conscious after last night.
she just announced that once she was paid to deep throat a light saber with a mint flavored condom on it. i'm speechless.
I walked into my room to see them crying, watching hey arnold, and passing a franzia box back and forth...
They can be so fun, drunk bruises are like clues to the treasure of what actually happened last night. "why do I have a bruise on my belly button? oh right. i was trying to turn my stomach off so I would stop throwing up."
I just found a casserole dish in my oven filled with broken glass, blood, and chopsticks. And the REALLY fucked up thing is that finding it answered more questions than it raised.
Good news. Hiccups are gone. Bad news. I had to set the bathroom rug on fire to get rid of them. Don't come home until the fire truck leaves.
I have family pictures in an hour and a half and I'm 9 beers deep. This is how I get written out of my grandparents will...
Last thing I remember clearly was, "ok, but if we're are gonna get drunk before class, there's no half-doing this"
I yelled kanye while he was fucking me. It just felt right
This is the I'm sorry text for running around yelling don't shit on my rainbow, end up in the fetal position crying at 4 am in my car because someone shit on my rainbow
Pagan metal show. There is a folk dance happening in the mosh pit. Also, I have no idea where we are.
I remember being like "I can't hold both of you guy's hair back!" so I put headbands on each of you
It’s awful. They need to open the bars. I’m now trolling grocery stores looking for dick
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