I'm drinking till I'm someone else's problem
He just turned on a sound machine. I need to get the fuck out of here.
I made the bartender pinky promise me there was still vodka in my drinks.
Fell down a spiral staircase. Et tu vodka. Et tu.
no one is here. wer drinking in the beer garden in the dark and we stole a bucket of blue paint off the sidewalk. now her legs are blue.
But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
I am drunk. Riding an elevator. You can smell the beer. Doctor on with me just smiling at me... He agrees, fuck cancer.
Seriously. My vagina. Can we talk about it? It's gonna jump off this treadmill and devour my trainer.
I'm at the hospital waiting for my sister to push out her kid. I think I'll roam the halls and shame all the teenage mothers.
2 men making out for 2 seconds to trick a cop so they don't get arrested for being pulled over rolling a blunt is not gay.
No dude, I'm not naming my kid after your beard
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
A guy in a gorilla mask got blown on the lawn. And then the night got weird.
so he's a sleeptalker.
yeah??
"Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell" right in my ear. 2 am.
We sat at the bar and made fun of everyone around us. I'm in love
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