I'm twenty-five. I'm too old to be watching my friend throw up in Chipolte Parking lot.
If she didn't want me to pass out in her bathroom, then she shouldn't have such a furry rug in there
so we'll all just be running around naked, basically. and high.
She called it mighty mouse.. And from there it was down hill
12 garbage cans filled with water, a beer can floating in every garbage can, 20 ft. apart and you shoot with dodge balls..and thats only how the night began
I spit up blood this morning
That's vegas.
Her face was so far in my boobs, I didn't think she'd make it out. She took it like a man. She's a real trooper.
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
Oh they knew you from a bachelorette party! You were the pole?
Ohhh shit yeah that was me. Fuck. I hate myself when I do that.
I really just want to stuff him in my purse, take him home, feed him pudding or applesauce and brush his hair. That's not creepy, right?
My mouth tastes like what I imagine a hobo's skin would taste like.
"Friendship bread", "how to get period stains out of cement", and "elephant bereavement" are all in my recent google history. Whatever shit that was last night really did me in...
So she just had an emotional breakdown over a birthday card with a peacock on it. Yeah. She's pretty drunk, but we made it home safely.
Exactly. Stay back and unsubscribe from her
There now exists video of me holding a (recently emptied) bottle of Russian Standard vodka, trying to sing the Russian national anthem.
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