its 10 pm and i am cleaning vomit off the ceiling. i am nowhere near drunk enough for this to be funny.
So this snow storm is NOT helpin my masturbation problem
Oh my god. I opened up my microwave and there was a pile of bacon in it. It's like my mother knew I'd be hungover.
I ended up taking shots of whiskey and chasing them with potato wedges, I have never felt more Irish
Having a race with the dryer. Seeing who can get drunk/dry clothes faster.
they're like a gay fantastic four
There is nacho cheese and blood everywhere.
I think this hangover is going to kill me. If it succeeds I would like you to read a dramatic rendition of 'Trapped in the closet' complete with interpretative dance at my funeral.
The amount of precision it takes to urinate into a 2 liter bottle while hammered is undeniably difficult.
Also cheers for the reminder to check last night's texts. It's been a magical adventure through drunk me's thought process.
Clothes make me feel like a responsible adult and that's just not something I'm ready to handle.
i just thought a plastic bag was my cat. i just pet a plastic bag. that high.
He took me home and by the time I woke up after catching up on sleep I realized I accidentally put on one of his fiances socks. whoops.
I officially have worse injuries from a baby shower than roller derby.
And then I was like pick your blow job song and he choose the sonic the hedgehog theme song. If he's not the one no one is.
Randomize
