i have nine cents in my fucking bank account... not even a dime
where am i from again
I'm shivering and sweating at the same time. Thanks a lot St. Patrick.
no, i'm currently making the trek across campus to get all my stuff from last night. My ID is in one guys bed, and my camera in another guy's bed.
the girl in my class has a rolling backpack and just told it to stay. im too hungover for this.
And yes, in case u were wondering a 25 year old high school agriculture teacher did just hit on me At Walmart bc of my pinata
I am 48% hangover, 48% bruises and 2% fingers I'm texting with.
At least I look tastefully trashed. My nipples are hidden and I'm standing up.
It's not socially acceptable to be drunk in adult world. That fact makes me die a little inside.
I think I will always strangely appreciate as well as kick ass at stoned dishes. Like for the rest of my life. Thank you slave job at Starbucks.
He's only done it missionary. His world is about to be rocked. Do you know what I look like from behind?
I mean, I introduced myself as "the after party". I think he knew early in the night he was in for a bangathon.
So his shoes are still here. And there are three contacts in a case. And a shirt on the bed. I've checked my dorm and he's not here. I'm so confused.
my hair smells like a mixture of fireworks and rotten eggs with a hint of shame. it's so strong it's keeping me awake.
"Fwd: Nice to meet you last night thanks for the tit flash" no recollec. i am officially banned from wearing tube tops to the bar.
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