I guess you don't remember pouring tequila in the dog bowl and slurping it.
We raised our shot glasses and you screamed out "TO MY DAD FINALLY GOING TO REHAB!"
I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
I have a pocket in my purse that is just for condoms and cocktail swords. I feel like that speaks volumes about me as a person
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stuck in a tree...bring a ladder. also my arm might be broken. no questions are allowed.
We shot off some fireworks at 12 and then I orchestrated the group singing of god bless the USA all while wearing a don't tread on me flag as a cape. I repped hard.
I think I've just evolved into some kind of vodka fueled monster
I hate when you actually try to sing and people think you're joking so you just go with it, but on the inside you're crying.
If if makes you feel any better, you're definitely the hottest guy I've ever friendzoned.
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I am thankful for thumbs.
Because without thumbs, we would be dolphins.
Land dolphins.
Omg one of the midgets from last night just added me to Facebook.
I just set my acrylic nail on fire while trying to light my blunt
Virgins should have to wear a badge. This burden is too heavy...
I think I was just recruited to join a religious lesbian cult by these 3 really pretty girls and I'm tempted to join
I will bring Jesus to court if he punishes me for that
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