Mr. Last Night just informed me I told him to be very quiet when he left this morning and high-fived him as a goodnight kiss. Drunk me is slutty and manly.
She came to work with 6 additional layers of make-up, playing every Nickelback song about explicit teen sex, and with a dozen twinkies she bet she could finish without chewing any. I'm investing in a rape whistle.
im just gonna turn drinking alone on new years into a tradition
every single one of us blacked out. we woke up the next morning and it was like the night never happened. IT'S STILL A MYSTERY
on toilet. in drag. drinking coffee vodka. I regret nothing.
Internet sex stories have completely ruined the word sopping for me.
It reminded me of the time my mother gave my Bailey's in my stocking when I was 14.
You can't just hum the Jaws theme song when you pull down my pants.
He asked me when I was coming to bed while simultaneously drilling a fart into the mattress. Don't fucking get married.
When I woke up my bed had been moved to the middle of my living room, a hippie was spooning me on one side and a pile of cocaine on the other, did I go through a time warp or are we still in 2012?
i'm not sure what happened last night.. i do remember the police calling me to find out where i was because apparently at some point i went missing? don't worry though. they found me
Apparently, Lolla sends you an email every time you use your wristband to buy a beer.
21 new emails...yikes
We are never doing shots of gin. Never again.
I'm pretty sure that's exactly what we're doing.
After we finish having sex, he smokes an honest to God pipe. It's like fucking a big, sexy Sherlock Holmes...
shes rolling around in the floor yelling my vagina hates me
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