Any time you start making pro wrestling references before 10 PM I know that I'm breaking up a fight between you and some muscled up frat boy you call Hogan.
yeah. pants. i need to put pants on. i didn't do that last night. big mistake
you stole their roomba and ran out the door so that you could 'set it free'.
we found you passed out on lawn and the roomba bouncing back and forth on the sidewalk.
So I've only had a mustache for about 5 minutes and I'm already pretty sure it's the best decision I've ever made.
We could make it a date. Dinner and a show. The show being my nipples getting pierced.
once you started introducing yourself as "running-bear" i knew you were beyond fucked up
i woke up to something itchy on my head. it was his mustache. he fell asleep face-plant style on the side of my head. WTF?
I've started a list of places i want to drink. To go along with the list of places i want to have sex. Lincoln's log cabin is on both.
All I've had today is a brownie and a shot of Jack, so you know. I'm doing ok.
Besides the fact that the only male who has shown an interest in me in the last 5 months has a strange and unfortunate resemblance to fucking Frodo, I've been good thanks
On Tinder, guy asked me if I had ever been fucked by a Pokemon master. Needless to say I didn't respond.
So, I have realized that I am kryptonite for married men. I'm not sure how to feel about this sober, but drunk me accepts her destiny.
Are u alive? If u are, you deserve an award.
I was on top for a full on make out when in dead silence "I'm moaning Myrtle" came from the TV. Moment ruined. I got cock blocked by a fictional ghost
I pointed at him and said “there goes mr fuckwad”
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