I feel like I've been hit by a train. I woke up this morning covered in wine, free condoms, and a sign language dictionary.
even a "fuck you" would be nice at this point.
My co-worker just asked me if i colored my hair. Time to take a shower.
I'm like connect-the-dots of drunk. Whiskey, bourbon, vodka, rum, gin. The hidden picture is me faceplanting.
Whoever decided putting Tom Seizmore and Heidi Fleiss together in rehab should win some kind of award.
No, you don't understand. If the words "stop," "alcohol poisoning," and "regret" aren't in the same sentence by the end of the night, I will have failed this birthday.
Some random walked into our tent, woke her up and said "Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"
They should make a traveling bouncer service to remove unwanted people from your house without getting the cops involved. That sums up my Friday.
I cnant read. Cheetos goen. Help. Grt Cheetos.
I should have been on a postcard. I was sitting in the middle of the forest with a plate full of pot brownies and missing you.
Just make it a game! Like 20 questions STD style.
I have just found the cubicle of sustenance. And I will rejoice at all the families that have not found this magic. This vodka cubicle of magic.
The only downside to doctor sex is that getting choked with a stethoscope leaves marks.
Still alive. Just brushed my teeth with fireball.
You are telling me my dick tastes like a taco supreme?
I'm saying this "taco supreme" tastes like your dick.
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