I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
Most awkward thing ever: Meeting your BattleShits opponent post war.
First order of business is dropping my 9 am gym class. I'm sweating pure vodka.
She was perfectly content just sitting in the middle of everyone blowing bubbles in the air.
he said he has something really important to tell me but isn't ready yet. It's either that he loves me or has herpes
Handcuffed. To. Steering. Wheel. Fuck.
So for future reference.... it's a little unnerving when I can't get hold of you, and the last communication we had was, "Oh fuck... It's tequila"
The sad thing was my husband told her its ok to make out with me. Bar Tuesdays will live on regardless.
Hurry there's four guys dressed up as a bachelorette party, one has a condom veil and the rest are selling candy bouquets and asking if anyone wants to get laid for $5
Y'all best leave this "I can only have a couple drinks" shit at the door. U don't drive to Yukon to have a shot. I'm getting u fuckers drunk.
This reminds me of the time I was given a lap dance by a David Bowie drag king...
All I know is I woke up with his business card in my bra and in my handwriting on the back it says 8 inch.
Ok fine, yes she's pregnant. But you're ignoring the most important part. HER BOOBS GOT BIGGER. That doesn't happen every day, and I owe it to myself to enjoy those boobs before the belly catches up to them!
He sang a ten minute song about me sitting on his face and eating quesadillas. Pretty sure I have to marry him.
How was jagerbomb pong?
It was like communism. Great in theory. Terrible when put into practice
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