Trying to find something to do here is like trying to find a vegan resturant in alabama.
she doesn't hate you. She just thinks you need a personality adjustment, speech therapy and weight watchers.
You were so hammed, you asked your buddy in Economics to plot a demand curve for Parmesan Cheese.
you're in nursing school, now tell me what to do about a burned clit.
It was like some kind of slut recycling operation. She gave me the shirt of the last guy she slept with in exchabge for mine so I didn't have to wear the same thing to work. She's been doing it for years
2pm: Breaking news alert: I think I'm finally sober. Oh, and that place needs hotter strippers.
You remember the guy that busted in waving a tazer at everyone yelling "get the fuck outta my crib"?
yeah you don't forget that shit easily
We ended up crawling out from our hiding spot and playing pool with him once he calmed down. His name is Marcus. I got his email.
He gave up on mugging us when Dave wouldn't stop laughing. He was wiggling his finger at the knife and making baby noises and giggling. The guy just walked away.
I've got to stop giving the gift of vagina for every occasion. I'm exhausted.
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
My feelings are currently in a sea of vodka and "I don't give a shit"
Aren't they always?
Don't go to sleep yet I need your Mexican roots. Can you come make guacamole
I just gargled with NyQuil
Philosophical question for you: is it better to go into work slightly drunk or slightly coked out?
I am officially in a love triangle with my celebrity crush
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