I wish there was an iPhone app to help you with your shitty personality.
First order of business is dropping my 9 am gym class. I'm sweating pure vodka.
Only if you bring Listerine. I can't come home to my husband from a bachelorette party with spermbreath again.
So after I was tied with a feather boa he left me there with KFC and cherry coke
They woke me up at 4 in the morning screaming "drunk adventure time!" because they needed a sober chaperone. They made me walk them around the block shoeless.
Well right now I am watching him use the fire extinguisher off the pourch.
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
I have invented a new sport: freshman-watching. I'm sitting on our porch literally dying watching the freshmen run around trying to find parties
You're the only true friend I have, if true friendship is based off who would be there for me at 4am during a boxed wine crisis.
Also-when I die, I want it to be with my arms above my head so that when rigor mortis sets in, my breasts are perky.
I don't know if I'm more excited about sex or that I have an excuse to smoke a cigarette
after you got high, you started to make guac with your bare hands and said: "there's soda bubbles in my legs"
Today's goals: get day drunk then sober up in time for the walking dead tonight.
Will Smith has a direct hotline to my emotions
I'm disgusted with myself. Who goes down on their Uber driver? This asshole
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