my mother just offered to pay for my fake id.
i really thought "pants-shitting drunk" was an unreachable level until last night
It's sad that my net worth at the moment is 4 beers
I woke up naked dangling by my feet from the balcony over his foyer. He's officially my new favorite booty call.
Nothing is more important than the last pool party of the season. Call in sick or gay or something.
Drunk at ten am watching Californication re runs. Being divorced rules.
So update from last night: I made friends with a coke dealer, I tore the card scanner off the wall of my dorm, and I passed out on our bathroom counter with my head in the sink.
You kept mumbling that you could become one with the carpet as you proceeded to give yourself the worst carpet burn I have ever seen
The fact that you're allowing Santa to dry hump your ass is sort of a dealbreaker
You want to complain about your sex life to me? Right now mine consists of trying to masturbate lightly enough not to wake her up with bed shakes. Go. Fuck. Yourself.
you said "how could you not want to hook up with me when I have these abs" and then proceeded to rip your shirt off in the middle of the bar. I'm pretty sure you were hammered.
JESUS
You can't be friends with my side piece. Conflict of interest.
He had an extremely smooth butt for a man with such rough hands.
I think I need to start sobriety testing my Tinder dates.
color coded lube a great way to organize my bootie calls
Randomize
