I'm laying in your front yard are you home
I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
her voice honestly makes me want to vomit. i have springsteen cranked up all the way.
I haven't worn deodorant in like three days and have been laying around in my underwear listening to music and drinking. I think i've made my own Bonnaroo in my apartment.
how is it that boston is so bitchin and the rest of massachusetts sucks so much?
how is it that you still think "bitchin" is an acceptable term anymore?
I almost didn't recognize her with a shirt on.
I need a creepy friend to scare off the other creepy people
I would be honored to be that friend.
Less talking, more tequila
We were walking up the stairs and I asked Dominick what floor the party was on. The cop who had just tried breaking it up was walking down the stairs, drinking a slurpee, and answered, "Third floor."
I found your doppelganger. same hair, eyes, personality, catch phrases, and penis. it was mind-boggeling.
Everytime I get drunk I wake up hugging the bag of bagels from three months ago
I'm torn between regretting everything and regretting nothing.
You snapped me at 3am drunk laying on your floor asking if I knew how we couldn't have predicted the housing crisis.
I'm drunk and in a paddle boat and my friend won't quit yelling about pandas. Does this ever happen to you?
You had all day to plan ahead & get mixers, so whose fault is this sobriety?
Randomize
