So can you tell me who's underwear is on the cat?
She threw up in my garbage can last night and walked home with it this morning so she could clean it out...
She is dropping it off on the way to the bar at 7.
he came on my stomach, took his sock off, wiped it up, put his sock back on along with his shoes and left.
My cleaning lady broke my bubbler. It's awkward between us now.
Why?
Because she knows I do drugs and I know she's a clumsy bitch.
I literally might walk of shame home on a cable car. If that doesn't scream San Francisco I don't know what does
what's not responsible about a pool full of beer?
I feel like our low point of the night was when we had to start chasing with ice cubes and wheat thins.
Well, I found my bra. It's in my glove compartment with a half-eaten Snickers bar and a Jesus bookmark.
whatever the appropriate amount of shots is to consider drunken acrobatics a good idea was a few less than I actually had
I feel like we need a drunken piñata bash with your face being the piñata and my hopes and dreams being the stick
So apparently nutella and chocolate body paint aren't actually the same thing.
There comes a point, as I lay on the floor of the work disabled toilets contemplating catching 10 minutes sleep between chunders, that I wonder if its really worth it
I just handed a girl a slice of pizza and she handed me her number. Is this how Vegas hookups normally begin?
I've got enough liquor to do one of two things on Friday: 1.) Drink myself into a coma or 2.) lay in bed a drunk and cry lonely mess. Happy Valentines Day.
If I don't get alcohol poisoning from tonight I don't think i ever will.
Randomize
