My sheets look like a crime scene.
My face smells like last night's lay. I need a whore bath. Or a corndog.
i lost my life and panties somewhere between the 15th and 16th round of slap the bag.
Just woke up. I have a "Detective Jacob Arnold's" business card in my pocket.
By the way, she says hi. At least I think she did since she licked my phone
I think she must be bulimic. I mean, every time I see her I know i want to throw up.
maybe next time you shouldn't be drinking alone watching intervention at 3 am and no one would think you needed an intervention.
Just checked my recent transactions online. Between the hours of 1 and 3am on September 30th, I went to 7/11 4 times. Unacceptable.
Im celebrating the fact that the one guy who has ever denied me has just come out of the closet
We made out for three hours. Then she said she didn't sleep with redheads and left the party. So yes, I'm still drinking.
Do what your heart wants. . .
My heart wants to rip his balls off and tie therm to his head using his penis
Remember that night I drank a bunch of vodka, pounded your Jameson because 'you were a pussy', punched you in the face and ran off as fast as my high heels could go? It was just my Russian and Irish sides fighting for genetic dominance
Is it bad that I've been making new friends through your vagina networking? I don't think so
I knew I'd like her from the moment she supported me messing around with my co-worker on my lunch break
There's a bull to ride and dancing on the bar is encouraged. This is my heaven. And this is why god made leopard tube tops.
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