We may or may not have a drunk cat on our hands.
She has 2500 facebook friends. I probably should have used a condom.
No, i'm not gonna let you give me a footjob on the floor of the cheesecake factory. C'mon.
Mr. Clingalot just ran from our apartment. What the hell?
I started to cry afterward and mumble random things. Examples: "God, please don't make me be so gay anymore" and "my mom is going to be so proud of me for fucking a dude this time." It was that or let him stay the night and cuddle. I mean, fuck that horrible shit I'm a girl that needs her space.
I woke up to you singing What Makes You Beautiful and trying to blend an avocado with vodka.
according to last night, I underestimated the size of my mouth and the possibilities of what can fit into it.
Do you have any need for a scary clown mask?
Anywho, an ostrich attacked me today. Fucking useless pieces of shit birds.
I'm definitely not at Wal-Mart eating jalapeno poppers with an elevated blood alcohol content
I'm gonna celebrate Valentines day by watching Bob Ross videos and tripping balls.
I don't like pregnant me. I eat very large burritos, I don't like having sex and I can't even finish a Blue Moon.
I have to hand it to her. In my heyday I took home the 'biggest shitshow of the night' award 9 times out of 10. But I passed the torch on to her last night, and she went skipping merrily far and away with it into the enchanted world of aggressive alcoholism. Is this 30?
I'm actually glad the whole thing's over now. It's exhausting to fake a pregnancy.
Imagine not having to fake it.
Yeah, I should never have kids, probably.
I just slammed a bottle of white wine before I came to Whole Foods so basically I'm just training to be a middle aged white woman.
I woke up with what has to be a whole pack of smarties loose in my bra. Was that your fault?
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