two more shots til everyone in this club gets to see my cesarean scars.
half the nation just spent an hour watching a balloon fly around. we are officially the dumbest fucking country.
I'm proud of us, I'm cleaning up the place and I haven't found a single beer can that isn't empty.
Just spent the last of my lifesavings on (what i hope is enough of) alcohol. Hello summer.
We drank a $4 handle of tequila until 5 am. Please think about that.
THAT WAS PROBABLY MY ONE CHANCE TO SLEEP WITH A MAN NAMED BORIS AND YOU RUINED IT.
It was the classiest, most strategic and inspired vomiting I've ever witnessed. Like a blind mans first sunrise. A priests first prayer. Or a virgins first orgasm.
I feel like I took a shit on my life and you're rubbing my nose in it.
I'm dying. The alcohol is viciously exiting my tiny body.
My bathroom smells like artichokes and absinthe. I am naming a perfume after you and using the money to buy new towels.
Sometimes I'm sad but then I realize that bagels.
I'm going through what feels like a break up with beer. I'm emotionally distraught from it's lack of presence.
Have you considered sword swallowing? Something about that bj tells me you could make a it a career.
In the morning when you read your texts, just fyi you showed up at my house drunk off your ass and shoe less and demanded I go to the bar. You need Jesus.
Dude, I need a fuckin wingman and this could finally make us eskimo brothers, how can you pass that up?
Randomize
