Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
The door to door salesmen do not expect you to be drunk at 3 in the afternoon
You walked in with a firecracker and a doughnut then demonstrated what a lazy job he did fucking you
Just put a sign on a baby carriage that says "all daddy wanted was a blowjob" might get fired.
He's a waiter, looks 15, and told me he loved me after only talking to me for 30 minutes. I told him I wanted a margarita. We got 3 free pitchers. I may have to make this our regular Wednesday night hangout.
There's puke on my pillow. I'm still wearing my wedges. And I have a cab drivers number clutched in my fist.
i introduced myself to everyone by my new name, thundergooch. i threatened the neighbors with a hammer when they used my real name. needless to say, sailor jerry was not kind to me.
In that case, I'll try 2 find a date. But my options are AA friends or fuck buddies.
I am coping with the snow storm with beer and shots of jack. If I were outside in shorts I might be able to pass as a Canadian.
I just smoked a bowl with the lady who runs the special olympics. Your move.
I feel like I missed the land of milk and honey and instead wound up in the land of beer and pizza. And yet, I think I'm happier here.
I hurt myself, but I'm pretty sure I saved the carpet.
He got in a shopping cart outside of home depot and insisted we push him down a flight of stairs. For science.
Not only did I get the promotion, but last night after sex he took me outside and let me hold it for him while he peed in the snow. I made a heart. This week is going amazing
Fuck. I think I can already feel tomorrow's hangover. It's like future me cane back to warn present me about the impending doom but didn't turn the time dial back far enough.
Randomize
