Yeah I guess I was Pocahontus. If she were a trifling drunk who hung out in her undies, with possible brain damage.
She calls her new ritual "bed, bath, and beyond crunk". Hence why I found her passed out in my bath tub this morning.
she gave him a mild concussion from throwing him against the wall in an attempt to dance with him. gotta love monday nights at the sandbar.
your dad just showed up on the golfcart with a keg. i. love. our. neighborhood.
the question is "speedos?" and the answer is "yes".
I am 48% hangover, 48% bruises and 2% fingers I'm texting with.
Free tacos and bad night are never used in the same sentence
I need to stop ravaging the freshman dorm like a virginity-snatching dragon.
It's 6 am, I'm drunk, and celebrating the end of finals.Go ahead and ask me where I am...if you guessed a McDonald's playpen then you are correct. Badabababa I'm loving it
So... crashing at the hot bartender's place is not a solid marital decision.
We exchanged snapchat usernames instead of numbers. Is that what America has come to?
I suppose we should both be prepared for the secret service to come visit us after this conversation. Hi NSA.
Also there's so much vodka on my breath that if I blew on my fingers my nail polish would fall right off
It's 5am and I have yet to fall asleep. At what point do we just accept that I run on vodka?
I just texted my mom from a strip club.
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