oh ps. last night you kept telling me to calm down because everything was fine cause you were getting "arab money"...
i'm too stoned to be pregnant. the kicking is morse code for wanting beef jerky.
The cop refused to sing with us, even though he was as happy as we were that the tow truck finally showed up.
Just sneezed out a half gram of coke into a tissue. Four hours after the fact. The bender continues.
He came to the party late, didn't bring tacos, and then asked what shennanigans we were getting into. I swear I will never fuck another hipster.
This santa hat i wore to the bar, served it's dual purpose as a vomit bag.
Friendly reminder that on the walk home you tripped but instead of falling to the sidewalk, you tried to save it and ended up headbutting my ex-boyfriend in the balls. ILU.
I think I might be harboring a Canadian in my womb.
6 pack came off in the shower. Sharpie is not forever.
Apparently I took a selfie with fried chicken at 2 am....I'm still trying to figure out where I got the chicken. I thought I was making mac & cheese.
You attempted what you called the "Long Island Heist", in which you shoved a half glass of Long Island down your pants and asked me to help you sneak it out. That drunk.
Thanksgiving day drinking ended up with me in a shopping cart screaming where are the bitches and condoms. I'd say it went well.
I just wanna get high and take a fucking awesome nap. Those are my goals for the week.
If he sends me a dick pic so help me god.
Im just drunk enough to admit that I miss Hannah Montana.
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