dear life, i get it, drinking is not a contest
Fiestas. Its like a classier verson of mardi gras.
She looks like Sash Grey but sounds like Fran Drescher. Advise.
You were waisted for 48 hours and the only 3 words you said were yup, sure, and michigan
We were hooking up and you crawled into bed with us, because you had lost your phone and didn't "want to be alone at a time like this."
Dear drunk me, don't shave my balls til you're sober. My junk looks like a pomeranian with mange.
They are making fun of natty and blackberries.
Tell them they are ugly.
Come out Saturday. It's for my lesbian daughter from the future birthday.
We get an extra hour of sleep. That means we can take an extra shot tonight. Sound logic. Thank you daylight savings.
Right now, there's some ten year old kid getting ready to go outside and play basketball. He will soon find out his basketball hoop was no match for my car.
Swish.
all his sexual metaphors involve condiments, should I worry?
My frontal lobe is being piloted by Jack Daniels right now.
Per my usual Thursday, I blacked out and slept on the stairs.
Oh yeah I meant to tell you the Tomb Raider looking girl so crop dusted me on the stairway
he literally walked in took a shit and left ringing the 'great service' bell on the way out.
Randomize
