So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
i study at coffee shops because all these damn artsy people motivate me to work towards a real job.
He called me a "functional alcoholic" like its a bad thing.
I know you're trying to keep the moaning to a minimum but the banging on the wall is totally giving you away
Thanks for the drunken voicemail of bird calls. Love and miss you, too.
Woaahhhh there! We are JUST drunk fucking. Don't call me "baby".
White grape blunt wraps are like the equivalent of a glass of wine in a tux.
I would say I'm the man in the relationship but I'm cuddled on the couch eating cake mix and water.
Just had a 40 min argument about how many celebrity guest appearances on Sesame Street were court ordered for DUIs.
That's like the cock version of a mortal kombat fatality.
As he walked by me and gave me his dreamy smile full of dimples all i could think was 'I gave you chlamydia'.
We were still up at 6am, taking shots, because thats apparently how he liked to "get the day started".
we turned the lights off and all you could see were my glow in the dark stars and his penis
6 more days and it'll be a year since i slept with him and never went home
Let he who has not made drunken spaghetti at 3 a.m. cast the first stone.
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