I've been living off of popsicles and broth.
Tonight just feels like one of those I'm going to lose a shoe nights.
She was mid-sentence and then BOOM the hammock broke off the tree. I about pissed myself. Hot Sprite and Vodka make the world go round.
When you hit the 45 minute mark of any argument about The Flintstones, you have to realize: it's no longer you arguing, it's the cocaine arguing.
She ended up puking in the bathroom. But she's a good drunk... i told her to stay in there so i could dance til the club closed. She was still in the stall an hour later.
Nothing quite says Coachella like me doing high yoga in the middle of a field by myself
He went THROUGH MY PHONE (he's 30 for God sake) then asked me why I was stringing along 12 guys... I told him he could have just asked me if I was banging other people and then saved himself from looking at pics of dicks bigger than his.
Thing I said while arguing: I want to be single again so that I can have pizza and dick rained down upon me.
Pulling out all the stops on being a lady.
No gay bar. My eyemake up looks like sex and Im using these dick daggers of mine tonight.
Why is the clock ticking so loud? Now I know how Captain Hook feels.
Just me, my martini, and my backup Martini.
there may have been a blood oath never to speak of it again...only reason i can think of as to why there was a 1 inch bloody cut on my right boob
I'm thinking my boss switched to all cordless keyboards and mouses so that none of us would hang ourselves in the office.
You walked around in your costume going up to every guy saying "I'm a squirrel, give me your nuts"
Whatever he got a sick blow job and his high school fantasy was fulfilled
And that's what dreams are made of
*hilary duff crying in the background*
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