The more I throw up, the more I am remembering exactly what I drank last night...in order.
All I remember about walking back home was that I maced my shadow.
i woke up surrounded by junior mints. not to mention, there was a huge pyramid of natty cans baracading the door shut. this is why i can't drink alone.
I've now graduated to the level of gay where I can tell Tegan and Sara apart.
Ps, did you know if you google "drunk jenga", you're the first image that shows up?
She's trying to figure out what kind of dinosaur I am... Yay codeine.
I don't remember anything that happened last night past 10.. I made him buy me a Buckeye's Donut tshirt. I have no idea why he'd want to fuck me after that.
The cops busted down the door and everyone ran. I was just trying to find my shirt before I got arrested
Can't tonight. I'm supposed to get drugs for some college kids. Just doin my part in helping to enlight america's future
I want you to read this conversation tomorrow and be proud of the fact that you taught me how to decipher any drunk message. Good job.
I mean.. listen to "Put It In My Mouth" and you'll get the gist of my voicemail for you.
I'm trying to arrange "Flawless" to come on as soon as I get up to leave the room after my thesis defense. Bow down bitches indeed.
at what point last night did i get this tattoo of an anchor made of dicks?
around eleven
so apparently over the course of the night my roommate and i had sex in exactly the same spot. ps the downstairs sink needs cleaning.
It's like Guy Diamond blew glitter into my vagina.
Randomize
