its 10 pm and i am cleaning vomit off the ceiling. i am nowhere near drunk enough for this to be funny.
You were dancing on the bar and fell off into the arms of the hot bartender. It was like a fairy tale, with more alcohol.
you said you couldnt let go of the fence because your hand was molding to it.
A guy in a sombrero stopped to take a picture with me sitting on the curb.
I walked home with an awkward asain couple. There was a language barrier but I think we're friends now.
I'm waiting at the bar and am surrounded by unattractive women.
You need to get here and rebalance this disturbance in the force.
A guy wearing a shirt that says "eat shit and die motherfucker" just held open a door for me. He's got manners.
Vom Wallet is no more. We now boldly enter a responsible, adult era where we will not throw up liquor onto ourselves.
And apparently I was the one that started the drunken make out session that broke the window
we were making out in my truck and while she was straddling me she informs me that she jerks off horses for a living. Should I be concerned or flattered?
If someone told me one person in the department was secretly a death eater, I would suspect her, no contest.
Alas, I cannot find a male suitor sharing my affinity for sport culture who will both manhandle me and treat me with the respect a young Hillary supporter wants and deserves
Also either i just launched into space as a rocket or my legs just orgasmed, but i am high as a soul train
Im just drunk enough to admit that I miss Hannah Montana.
All she said was "Do me by Friday."
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