Just spun two beer bottles and Placed them in my pockets perfect... I feel like the clint eastwood of drunks
when did my "fat clothes" just become my clothes...diet starts tomorrow
I don't have a choice really. It's either lose 15 lbs by Halloween, or I'm going as a giant banana.
My phone really needs to stop auto correcting "library" to "ovary".
I told the bartender that he could give me back the tip I gave him if he outsmarted me in a battle of wits. He has yet to challenge me.
It's not my fault you have a job and can't get drunk on Tuesday's. Don't take your frustrations out on me!
When the shrooms kicked in we both simultaneously realized we were not the right puzzle piece for the dubstep puzzle.
We made eye contact and were like we are not welcome here, the ravers are onto us and we need to get the fuck out before we get shuffled upon
Yea I saw a friend of yours carrying your limp body somewhere
Good. We don't answer calls at dick thirty.
You should not be allowed to go away on the weekends I plan on getting drunk on. I need someone to stop me from punching this guy in the face. It's simple room mate etiquette.
You don't want to cheat on your husband, you just want to fuck someone who isn't him.
I've now spilled wine and got poptarts all over my cast. So much for my doc taking me seriously...
I'm glad I can share my workout progress with you via my nudes
You were sober bartending last night right?
Sorta. I remember you crying, ripping rose petals off the flower stem and slowly sprinkling them behind the bar at me and singing softly
Romantic
We're pretty sure we got naked at Pride, so running the two blocks to your place in my underwear is a step up the dignity ladder really.
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