I am drunk raised to the nth degree. The possibility of getting sick is approaching infinity.
Puked in a cab. Passed out on my floor an my mom put a blanket over me. Home by 1045. I won shitshow trophy last night.
What can I say, he stumbled upon the key to my heart: orgasms and mac 'n cheese.
Tequila shots with cinnamon and orange write it down before I forget
I'm kind of concerned that there are now two different videos of me with knives
I cannot even. Taco bell reception. Beers. New friends from Georgia.
You need to simmer down or I'm going to buy you a labia leash.
I feel like I got hit by a bus. A head on collision with my vag.
And after that you guys started calling arbor mist "breakfast juice"
I woke up to realize my keys were on the front porch. Also so was I. So close yet so far
Worse than that. I caught my roommate jerking off to a topless stripper in gta 5.
Drunk level: ugly crying in the bar upon discovery of sweet tarts and not smarties.
You just wait. When you see me foam roll naked, you're going to lose your mind.
I just don't think it's that outlandish to ask that I don't get messages from my husband at 8:30pm on a Wednesday telling me he peed on our cat
its 2pm and were already starting beer pong...its gonna be a good night
Randomize
