i get turned down more than a collar. where are the desperate bitches i need to crawl to them
I mistook a propane tank for a keg.
Best. Four. Twenty. Ever.
Eventually evolution will just give us a better liver anyway, so our great great grandkids should THANK us for our binge drinking.
Dear God. I kissed a man tonight who was born in 1936.
you were cooking a hot pocket with a grill lighter what did you want me to do
its sad im about to start saving up for how drunk i need to be for the holidays
He ended our Skype call with, "I'm going to poop and then go play my ukulele in the park."
If we can only get laid once in a blue moon, apparently this will be our month.
Well. No wine. And no real mixers. I'm using vodka and grape juice and calling it Slurrrlot. Happy Holidays bitch.
I have decided that today will be all about indulgence and hedonism.
If you quit, you're not going to stick to our game plan of dead by 40. I will not be in the titty bar nursing home without you damning
Damnit.
Are we at that point yet where I can just say "I want you to sit on my face"? If not, want to go out for "drinks"?
Is it ironic that our divorce court is a block from where we had our reception? Or is it just sad? Alanis has confused my understanding of irony.
She pulled out a water gun filled with vodka and called it her weapon of choice tonight. She's fine.
Randomize
