I dont know whether to be proud of myself for not driving, or being proud that i was so messed up I couldnt drive
I can't go out tonight. I feel like I'm starting to party as much as Farrah on Teen Mom.
We turned everything surrounding BP and the oil leak into a "that's what she said" drinking game. We've been drunk for a month
gay flight attendant. racoons. kegels. bartender with missing teeth. too many birthdays. fucckk.
Take my keys. Load me into the vehicle. Drive. Get food. Come back. These are my demands.
There was a bottle of vodka and chips in a vase next to the bed
I kind of drew a blank when the doctor asked me how I got super glue up my nose.
I gave you head at the stadium on a Thursday night ESPN game. That damn well better be worth points on the score board!!!
Of course drinkings involved. They don't call it alcoholism because we eat too many skittles.
Please put me in a whole with no windows and never let me out.
Blackout me just wants to pee on sober me's dreams. Literally.
Why is there a muffler in the livingroom?
First, I just want to say that I had nothing to do with it. Second, how good is your car insurance?
Great. Now I have to produce, edit and leak a sex tape before Saturday. Fundraising is hard.
I haven't heard from him yet. He's either still asleep (which is entirely plausible..... There wasn't much sleeping happening last night) or he's robbing me blind. But I have renters insurance, so either way, I'm ok with it.
I am so disappointed that he didn't steal a Christmas tree last night.
Randomize
