New York's Hottest Club is wherever I am. Haters to the front, hunky Sailors to the back.
Bow down betches.
Follow this bitch on Twitter @StefonTSM
StefonTSM@iCloud.com
Please tell me you have a wedding dress in your closet that you bought before you’re wedding, while you’re still single, and you’re literally waiting for your husband like a woman waiting on her balcony for her sailor husband to come back from sea.
Oh, what’s up, ‘Cuse?
Could’ve been worse. She could’ve hooked up WITH her parents.
Oh goody, I’m just gonna go all the way to Vegas every time I have a binge-induced hangover.
GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE POSER BITCH.
32. Cutting off your hair to sell to Asian businessmen is a great way to bring in some extra bucks and almost always results in a cute summer ‘do!
I wouldn’t mind sucking down a couple of pitchers of Sangria. Maybe with a couple of shots of tequila on the side.
I’m trying so hard to be snarky on this, but I honestly can’t be. This is so true and so well-written it’s not funny.
Maybe some kind of joke about how we sorority betches love being on our knees and prayer’s how they got so good at it? Nah, fuck it. Well done girl.
If you’ve never ended your drunken night by going face-first into a giant tub of Sabra Hummus, you’ve never lived, betches.
Que?
As long as the curtains don’t match the drapes, who gives a shit?
Please tell me you have a wedding dress in your closet that you bought before you’re wedding, while you’re still single, and you’re literally waiting for your husband like a woman waiting on her balcony for her sailor husband to come back from sea.
That would make my whole morning.
Do you guys have his number? Asking for a friend.
Knowing me I’d probably start making out with myself.
What can I say? I’m fucking hot.
This must have been the most awkward after-prom/morning after of all time.
Well this is certainly something.
Not exactly sure what it is, but my God is it something.
You wish.
Absolutely better than the original, because Lana Del Rey is an no-talent, raccoon-eyed, scratchy-throated, ratchet piece of shit.
I say that with love, of course.
Mmmmmm, can I get me a Nick Lavin to go with a little Brownstone on the side?
I likes ’em big, dumb and fun, if you know what I mean.
RIP Grandma <3
You should definitely text first. Especially if it’s a selfie that doesn’t show a smidgen of tit. Even better if it’s a mass-snapchat.
That’s a surefire way to make him your husband.
Have you ever tried chasing shots with semen?
Never fails.