Vomit. Vomit. Whatever. You wear a tiara in public.
Pre-St Patricks Day Log: Threw up across a 14ft radius, this is why the irish dont drink tequila
I need a horse. I don't think you can get a DUI on a living creature.
His fridge was full of blocks of pepperjack cheese, and his pantry was stocked with huge jars of jellybeans. Even if I'd been drunk, I don't think I could've made that up.
Hungover like ... in bed with the Brita pitcher and a straw, only opening one eye at a time.
Also, hurry up because I don't like drinking alone. I'm still doing it, but I don't like it.
I feel like a food baby is going to burst from my stomach and eat all the leftovers until another food baby rips out of its stomach. And so on. It's truly a merry Christmas.
I ordered a million chicken go wraps and they gave me five. Even when im drunk I can count to a million and know its not five. They fucked me.
She clicked her fingers, said "here boy!", and pointed at her vagina.
whoa! who said he's my boyfriend?
Oops. Sorry. That guy you keep accidentally running into in public. And at home. And with your vagina.
I've been on this train for an hour and this women has been on the phone and all she's said is "guuurrrrrlllll, gurl, gurl." I may commit suicide.
It's fine. I wouldn't trust either of them to be my workplace drug buddy.
It took years to build this empire of casual fuckings and not carings.
I think I need to expose myself to your dog so he knows that I am also a male.
Dude, you GARGLED with bleu cheese last night!
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