You were running around the house covered in syrup, with shredded down pillow feathers on your body screaming "AFLACK!" at everyone
Word to the wise: learn how to ask "What is my bail posted as" in French before traveling abroad.
Just think. Tomorrow you'll wake up, shower, and get your brains fucked out. That's your ice cream. Today is your peas and carrots.
it's like I can see my whorish nature reflected back at me in his wedding ring.
I should work for the FBI. Or planned parenthood.
That's quite a broad spectrum. What did you do?
You know it was a good night when you're lying on the couch in your pjs at 4pm having a pitcher of ice water for breakfast.
I hat to flip my "days since last bad decision" chart back to zero. So...yeah. Sigh.
So I'm not dead, but close call. I think I can handle one more bar.
Well I passed out before 4:20 on 4/20 so I deem it a failure AND a success.
If the sex wasn't incredible why would I compare it to cheesy tots
well all i have to say, besides fuck you, is YOU try assembling ikea shelves while high on molly.
I can't tell if this is a hangover or just a perfect combination of shame and regret
don't bring your nerd jargon into this conversation about my naked body
Do you know anyone else that comes home with unexplainable injuries as many nights a week as we do?
She’s fine. Found her in the bathtub eating Cheerios and watching Rugrats on an iPad.
Randomize
