The bar I'm at just passed out smores to everyone. I don't know what it has to do with cinco de mayo but I'm down.
A guy in a sombrero stopped to take a picture with me sitting on the curb.
What's the appropriate I've been inside you but we're not technically dating valentines present?
My vibrator challenges you to a duel.
I have six drafts of messages to you that just say "blood" and I have no idea where they came from.
Walking down the street at 11 pm dressed in bubble wrap. Why is the bar so fucking far away??
I want to break his glasses with my pelvis.
No work today. I woke up and someone had written "Markhot Penis = Party" on my forehead in sharpie. Do you know a Mark?
Do you still have "be bumpin" written on your ass in glitter pen? Who brings a glitter pen to a bar? Or pulls there ass out for that matter...
He specifically said I couldn't post the picture of him passed out naked except for a strategically placed washcloth. Where's the fun in that?
YOU'RE MARRIED. TO OTHER PEOPLE.
He's interpretive dancing to Crazy by Britney Spears and expressing his feelings for either me or the guy next to us
I shouldn't have that kind of responsibility when the prospect of being high is readily available. All I could do was hula hoop and smoke cigarettes last night. My remembrance of anything important was out the window.
Me: I shouldn't go to the airport bar it's too expensive and I don't need it. Dark me: SHOTS AT 7 AM
What do you mean not that crazy? I had sex last night. with my\nBOSS. in the restaurant where we WORK.... ON A DINNER TABLE.
Who was that dick in the suit telling us to stop drinking?
The priest.
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