Youll never guess who has to go to fucking planned parenthood because trojan cant make a fucking condom
Woke up in 100% not my clothes this morning. Third time this month. Fuck. Tequila.
Cute you're picking friends over dick. I feel like this is the trailer for a lifetime movie.
I stopped understanding conversations unrelated to vodka two vodkas ago.
I just told you I can't. My fingers are melting. I have discovered the high.
I feel like I have streams of color and coldness wrapping around my body.
A guy just walked down the street dressed as Mickey Mouse holding a 40oz. Where the hell did you leave me?
Partial kegs from last night are currently in my bathtub, which leads me to 2 questions: 1. What are you doing tonight? 2. Can I use your shower?
Everyone looked at me like I just fucked a gopher and was wearing it like a hat
all i could think about while he was eating me out was how pretty his eyelashes were
You kept showing the cop the bruises on the bottoms of your feet and claiming you were a medical mystery.
Tried to ride the mechanical bull pants less, got punched for making out with some lesbians wife, and you tipped the bartender with a can of skoal.
I regret nothing
You take a step back sometimes and are like "when was the last time I was sober?" or "wow I need to stop putting everything in my vagina"
Is this an intervention?
You have to get it done early. Like a dick drive by. Hit it and run.
I couldn't find my hair brush so I just brushed my hair with a cat brush. I should not be dating.
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