i had to do the walk of shame dressed as a leprechaun. I have never been more proud of my irish roots.
You are the patron saint of my drinking problem.
I only want to screw him when I'm drunk. Problem is I try to be drunk as often as possible
Tequila bombs in champagne seemed like a good idea at the time.
I slept with him that night and I'm not sure if my lack of enthusiasm was obvious but I found him eating ice cream in the bathtub the next morning. Mom will be so proud.
You puked on my feet last night. You owe me a pedicure.
I just traded ecstasy for trapeze lessons...you in?
I'm not even mad. I was just trying to get a boner, you're the one that had to see that
I took a cab from the club to the grocery store. I needed peanut butter.
There's no winning that game with me. It's either "Can I walk home at the end of the night," or "am I throwing up trying to sleep in the front yard." Rules are irrelevant.
I just rolled a blunt and took my bra off. I'm not going anywhere.
The fact that we all screamed by Felicia to a bitch actually named Felicia will be a highlight of my life
what do we think the timeline is for when your liver will begin to revolt against your drinking habits?
I've given up on the male species, I'm just going to be a lonely whore for the rest of my life.
I really need to stop turning to the BDSM dungeon masters of tinder whenever my heart hurts
Randomize
