I just saw on the news, this guy tried to smuggle coke in a bouquet of roses... and to think I used to hate valentines day.
I told him I was engaged, had 911 on speed dial and made him wear his seatbelt, then dropped his drunk ass off at his motel...probably not the night he was expecting.
we've coined the Sunday morning ritual of taking out our puke-filled trash cans as The Trash Of Shame
KETAMINE SUNDAYS ARE SERIOUSLY FUCKING ME UP!
I brought a guy home then decided no. Took him back to the bar and said "I'm going to drop you where I found you. Have fun"
she put on her moms wedding dress and is chugging purple jolly rancher vodka, happy cyber monday
She screamed at us, "You guys need to wake up and smell the beer-bong!"
I just want to like fall into a pit of hot wings beside a keg of yingling and eat my way to freedom
He came over in a blaze orange vest with a case of beer and a shotgun yelling about "Dove Season" then passed out in the lawn. There he lies
I have to drop off my inflatable penis costume at the bar for my bartender. Do you think you could meet me there at like 630?
my whole wardrobe smells like substance abuse
just woke up. hair smells like weed and bbq. shins are bruised. vague memory of us chasing deer at the park at 3 am. fill me in on what exactly happened.
It's like "hey I give your roommate blowjobs twice a week, want to connect on LinkedIn?"
Is it bad when I wake up sore & don't know if my injuries are from sex or the mechanical bull at the bar?
I've finally become one of those chicks with a taco in her purse.
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