Best text conversation ever. Other than the one we had about using blood for lube.
I felt like a body pillow being humped by a twelve year old.
I tried. Now my legs are bleeding and I cracked my head on the coffee table. Never taking your advice again.
That's the girl I met who was peeing on the driveway with me. We bonded
constantly striving to make life awkward and more complicated, one drunk bone at a time.
Nobody is here, I still yelled for someone to make me some toast. That my dear is commitment to doing nothing.
You told me if you could get your shoes on, you deserved a coke and rum. We never made it to the party.
Just did a relay race involving shotgunning beers, cannonballs and riding a blowup whale. Never want to leave vacation.
Drinking loves me for WHO I am
He followed me on twitter after I posted a drunk screen shot of a tweet. It's like he gave me permission to stalk him on a whole different level.
Everyone was in the walk-in getting high, and I had to be all cool. Serving soup and salads. Night manager status doesn't pay enough.
I have feelings that need drinking.
I'm standing on the corner in a banana costume and cape with frozen bananas in my utility belt reassessing my life decisions.
I think we should have a sex position advent calendar
If one more dude who finds out I'm a cop asks to see me in uniform I'm gonna become asexual
Randomize
