trying to fathom saturday night and the fact that Rainn Wilson now hates me. my brain hurts.
I woke up covered in BBQ sauce. My hand had "you win" written on it. Do I celebrate?
phone sex would be way better if there was an app for that...
Yeah, you spent an hour in front of the mirror trying to reenact the Sailor Moon theme song.
Should I be alarmed that you're a regular enough at a bar to show up in sweatpants?
Sorry for punching you in the face last night. I should have known the boxing gloves were a bad idea from the start.
I can count the number of hours she's been sober this weekend on one hand.
drunk enough to drink jager bombs out of a bowl on the kitchen floor.
A total of 95 cents was stuck to my ass the next morning.
There are rocks in my bed. And dirt all over my face. Explain?
I need to stop going to bars and yelling "I could be teaching your kids one day, bitches!"
I just want a man to crawl into my bed with me and never crawl out. Anti socialism at his best.
Why didn't you ever bring me to the pope as a baby so he could kiss me.
You wanna see what happens when frozen corn meets an unhappy Andrew's face?
Do not tell me I cant do drunk math ever again, AND I made a creative way of telling him I want him to fuck me.
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