I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
I puked off the balcony.
Not horrible
Into the hottub. There were six people in it. I had eaten all their pizza.
I told my mom I had sex with him and even SHE was proud. Now that's saying something.
Too many sundays start with me waking up still drunk in my car.
AND OMG I HOPE YOU ARE GREAT WITH CHILD. COOK THAT BUN!
When I eventually hook up with a resident lets refer to it as taking a hands on approach to my job
Right... Let's keep my vodka tinged mind focused on simple words
I think I'm allergic to vodka. Or people getting engaged. One or the other. I want to die.
I guess my vagina missed him because it called and left a 5 min. message. Color me impressed
GOOD NEWS I CAN BRING THE VODKA IN MY LUGGAGE
Today is a wonderful day to be mildly hungover
We can talk about your dick in my throat after a decision is made, this is my hair we're talking about. .. shit's important.
The moment I said this burrito on my nuts feels really good is the moment I knew I was drunk
He gave me an orgasim so fantastic that I had an asthma attack.
Is it wrong that I have to schedule a family Sunday brunch around my mom's weekly banging of my stepdad. And why do I even know this??
Randomize
