I love that we get drink and call each other crying. It's kind of our thing.
the russians are downstairs with the vodka loudly proclaiming happy birthday america. i don't care if it's the fourth, i care that it's 9 am and they woke me up.
You guys tried to boil water to fill up the empty hot tub. After the fourth trip back with the kettle you gave up.
Im sweating champagne and woke up in nothing but a tuxedo jacket. What didnt go wrong last night?
Couldn't see or hear that well because she hit me on the back of the head with a bat. That is my excuse. Also the gin.
He wears a hat. All the time. Even during sex. And I'm okay with that.
It wasn't a threesome, it was me making out with one while looking at the other one screaming "does this make you jealous?"
My pupils are so HUGE you can see into my soul from 2 miles away
Fuck Sunday funday. Fuck real pants. Fuck the sun. Fuck Jameson. Fuck my life. Yes, I am hungover as shit sitting in my office eating bacon.
I think I just snorted head and shoulders by mistake.
Based off the amount of cat hair on my poncho....i stole a cat last night.
my night stand is a mini fridge, dont even try to get on my level of laziness.
I woke up to both of you drawing on me in sharpie, unless a glorious threesome was had the night before that is not okay.
Who says it wasn't?
That is our entire relationship. We match bowls and give each other head. What more could you possibly want?
He's so drunk that he's ignoring me and just doing what my cat does.
Oh god he's trying to eat cat food... I don't know if I should stop him or continue laughing....
Randomize
