Peach margaritas. And fuck whatever you're about to say, the girl to guy ratio is like 6:1. I need those odds
The only thing I really remember is repeating "I hope I still have a job on Monday". Oh and pulling my boob out of my dress.
So I take it the company Christmas dinner went well then...
I offered to buy ihop waffles for all the homeless people outside the metro. It was time to go to bed.
I feel like I took a shit on my life and you're rubbing my nose in it.
You left for an hour, then walked up to us at the bar, pulled 80 dollars out of your bra and yelled " drinks are on him".
I WAS JUST SITTING HERE BEING SNIFFED BY ODD WOMEN FOR A SOLID 5 MINUTES. My face was a twist of utter fear and confusion...
I had to talk to the cops at my front door in a bathrobe, with the buttplug still in.
Either I'm too drunk or she gave me a hand job to the rhythm of jingle bells.
So hungover im counting my own breaths to make sure im not dead. The odds hurt.
It's 4/20 and I spent the morning in the gym and am working later tonight. I don't even have any weed. Why am I adult-ing again?
The dysfunction is strong in this one.
I woke up covered in thousand island dressing. I need answers.
Spencer just told me I got home and was opening beers with my teeth and trying to make pot butter
I got drunk and bought a house last night. Also, I threw up on Mike's lawn. I'm pretty excited about one of those two things.
What do you mean you haven’t had the fantasy of getting anally penetrated by a tentacle monster?
Randomize
