How come I'm the only one who's around when people show up? I had just taken a shit, I wasn't wearing pants, phantom of the opera was playing and the fridge said PENIS.
She made me put my jeans under her mattress so that I wouldn't leave in the morning while she was still sleeping. Apparently I just look like "that guy".
In the middle of switching positions, we shared a line of coke. It's was like a modern-day 'Lady and the Tramp.'
I was greeting people at my door feeding them jello shots out of an ice cube tray with a spoon.
I just found a casserole dish in my oven filled with broken glass, blood, and chopsticks. And the REALLY fucked up thing is that finding it answered more questions than it raised.
My underwear said "hard to get" on the butt. He laughed when he took them off.
I'd rather not be labeled as that girl who came over, drank a bunch of their alcohol, woke up the 5 year old, broke shit and left
Winning the lottery was the best thing that ever happened to my penis.
Greatest pickup line ever: "We are out celebrating winning the lottery."
In other news my pubic hair is covered in glitter.
I worked all year for this tax return. I deserve to get my nipples pierced.
Im quite confident that my struggle with sobriety ended last night sometime after dinner
I can't believe I got dumped for a fat chick, but at least I got four and a half years worth of free shit. So we can call it even.
They were out of watermelon smirnoff, so we got you a fifth of 5 o'clock and an actual watermelon.
We will discuss everything tomorrow i presume. Including the sweaty naked tango.
The wedding is over. Operation sleep with my step-sister has officially begun
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