I just woke up to my FedEx of contacts I've been waiting for for about a week and my hungover ass went to the bathroom and used beer instead of contact solution.
I have decided today is drunk costume day. That is, i woke up still drunk and found costumes all over my floor. Heck yes. This is happening. Come over. Drink.
The maintenance guy at work just asked me out for a drink. For once, I proudly said that I was 20.
I think they were cool with it, they should have know if I was the host of the baby shower it was going to involve a keg and jager shots.
I've been alternating between telling people I was mauled by a bear or hit by a car to explain the massive unexplainable bruise on my leg. Slightly more worried now that the car idea is believable.
Times like this, when you talk openly about Tinkerbell being your spirit animal, are times when I'm allowed to question your sexuality.
So getting drunk in honor of the bomb threat is legit right?
Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face.
Well I let her practice her tattooing on me. This shaky dragon on my arm says Im getting laid.
My new successful method of booty calling is sending a screencap of a map with the shortest route from their location to mine highlighted.
I wish drunk me came with subtitles
Alvin just won tickets on the radio. I guess he's out of jail.
Bro you were on fire last night...like a less Irish version of Liam Neeson
Dude, he came to our house with a beer can in his hand dressed up in a chicken suit screaming, "free eggs!" then threw up and passed out in the front yard.
I wore my lizzie mcguire socks to the bar last night. Because that's how i get all the ladiez
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