I'm outside your house...sorry I feel like I don't need formal invites anymore.
We're so high we're finding things in the room to build a submarine with. So far we have two cardboard boxes, a piece of wood, puffy paint, and an empty bottle to use as a periscope.
The only thing that would make my night better is if William Shatner came and read me a bedtime story.
Houston, we have a blender
We saluted the chips to the national anthem before cooking them. The house has to get a munchies fryer
I'm not a horrible person, I just see what everyone chooses to politely ignore.. And occasionally say it aloud whilst deeply intoxicated.
I've decided I'm going to drink again. More. Day drinking. Night drinking. Everything. It's the responsible thing to do since I'm not pregnant
It's a little sad/awesome that I scored coke within 60 seconds of walking in the bar.
The student becomes the teacher.
Positive reinforcement! I'm training him for being a good boy and coming over. He gets sex and cookies.
He was cheering for me from the end of the bar as I sloppily ate a Ruben sandwich. It made me feel really special.
I just started an apology with "so I'm sorry about throwing the Brita at your head last night..."
I wore my lizzie mcguire socks to the bar last night. Because that's how i get all the ladiez
Stopping for a booty call on the way to a lunch date... Bad form?
I'm so hungry and so lazy that I'm seriously considering ripping into that packet of cream cheese in my nightstand.
Coworker just walked in thirty minutes late reeking like weed and clutching a handful of scratch-off tickets. Also, there’s still a stripper pole in my office. Happy Wednesday!
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