the only time it's appropriate to sing In The Air Tonight by Phils Collins is while sake bombing at Cal Beach
um or while having sex on a train
slut bingo starts in ten minutes ...
It's 6 am and I've spent the last few hours searching for a cork screw or suitable substitute. You had none. Incidentally, I finally opened this bottle of wine, but owe you a new meat sticky thing with those two prongs. Sobriety is not good for me. Or your utensils.
I'm too hungover to crawl to the fridge so im eating the candy nipple tassels I got bought for Christmas
You better fuck one or both of those bitches and bring me pictures that will make me uncomfortable
I can do at least one of those things.
Another memory: We offered for a stranger to live in our house under the condition that he took the garbage out because it's a 'blue' job.
We are the best.
Ps. We need to take the garbage out.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
Nothing says besties like laying naked in bed hungover arguing over who is getting the pants
I believe you would have been proud of me last night.. I was chasin Fireball shots with Jack and Coke. Guess there's a reason they call me Whiskey Woman.
sidebar: i fucked your brother last night
He was basically a horny puppy - following me around all night and kept sticking his hand down my pants.
Nothing like sunday church bells to aid your walk to the pharmacy to get plan b
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
You crawled into bed with Bob and started whispering to him about produce.
I pelvic thrusted so hard while he was eating me out that his nose started bleeding. I think it's broken. Trophy scars, right?
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