I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
neither the pictures you took nor my hangover explain why there are skittles in my shoe
Best news of the day: the hot chick at the funeral was NOT related to me... Thank god
all ten of us were sitting in his room with the lights off and staring at his colorful moving screensaver for two hours. That high.
Youre at medical school. Im eating raw cookie dough, pickles, and orange juice. Naked. On a monday afternoon. I clearly make better life choices than you.
I've now graduated to the level of gay where I can tell Tegan and Sara apart.
Just faked two orgasms bc I had too much wine and remembered mid sex that I bought doritos yesterday.
I'm in the Wal Mart stall where we found out you weren't pregnant. This is where I'm going to propose to you. I feel like that would be the most romantic
you stumbled up the stairs in your heels, pulled 23 one-dollar bills out of your bra and then went and puked in the toilet. didnt say a single thing to me the whole time
there is vomit in the pocket of my dress coat. i remember thinking "this is a weird place to puke" at some point in the evening, but i dont understand how i did this.
I used my tears to chase my tequila. You could say I rallied.
He was super stoned and then he compared doing meth to having anal sex and told me to "ride that cowboy." The cowboy being my ex.
Well I was thinking of taking him out for drinks then lecturing him about his drinking... kind of like an open minded intervention
I remember caressing his hands asking him if he moisturized, then i proceeded to put his hands on my face
At least you didn't get an invite in the mail to your fuck buddy's baby shower like I just did. My life is a sitcom
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