I'm calling you out on twitter if you don't come over right now.
we're drinking boxed wine and eating string cheese. It's like a wine tasting for poor people.
...there is blood under my fingernails.
...I hope my roomates are okay.
Locked out of the apartment with just a box of wine way to begin the weekend.
Ever since they found the bud they've been sending me visa gift cards instead of cash. Bastards.
Mental note: adding peach schnapps to a gin and tonic does not "water it down."
Handjob with gloves on results in friction burn. In case you've ever wondered
It started as a joke and ended with a trip to the emergency room, a broken macbook and a gigantic hole in the concrete of my driveway.
Pre-drinking/conditioning my liver for this impending hurricane party associated with cat. 2 hurricane Irene. Be ready to roll in a weather channel minute.
I need to stop drunkenly getting naked. I'm losing all my favorite party clothes.
Look. If you get me out of this speeding ticket you can bang my sister. Or my mom. But not both.
I keep jumping up and down in front of the mirror naked. The only motivation I would be to stop and put clothes on is if you come over. Hurry.
Tequila is gods way of telling you don't fuck with tequila
This stupid maranara sauce stain sucks. It keeps distracting me and it looks like I'm staring at my tits.
The only good thing about being back at work is supply room boom boom with my office husband
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