This is getting serious. I keep forgetting what's in my vagina.
I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
I just saw a Kleenex commercial and thought about last night. I'm sorry about your hair.
Idk how she did it. Either she watches freakier porn than I do, or I really need to go get tested.
My mom made me write an apology letter to all my family for hijacking the eggnog.
So he might be the smartest man alive. He had the stripper pick him up taco bell on the way to the room for an extra 50 bucks.
The landlord called, GOOD NEWS! Noise violation #2! Something about people singing and fighting with vodka bottles in the parking lot. Well done us.
I have to deal with three things I do not like this weekend. Pooping in toilets that are not mine. Air mattresses. Not beating off in the shower.
my binge eating and her being stoned all the time has reduced us to a bowl of chinese candies, frozen bacon and a stick of butter, we do however have enough alcohol to start our own liquor store.
You rolled around on the floor, yelled about being a "half-zombie" and bit that guy on the leg who was hitting on me.
I should probably stop opening conversations with 'guess who's horny'.
Apparently I was telling them, "I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN AND I DON'T NEED YOU TO HOLD MY HAIR," and I pulled my hair back and puked.
When you didn't respond I figured you must be busy so I'm home in my pj's 2 beers in and stoned from weed I got from my gaybours. They also gave me cake. I'm not moving from this recliner.
Ehh, the third backed out. Two still isn't bad. Who gets a bootycall to pick them up from a bootycall's house anyways? Only me.
You rolled over grabbed my crotch and said "that's my waffle." I'm sleeping on the couch next time.
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