I'm tuning in to watch Heidi Montag crash and burn on the Miss Universe Pageant. Somebody call 911. and I'm not talking about the Sean Kingston song.
We couldn't even have sex we were both laughing so hard. I don't know how I feel about the quality of that weed.
We had to leave the bar because you were trying to show the bartender your boobs for water.
that trick or treat candy bucket that we used to collect beer money last night was very helpful when I vomited in it this morning
I think my hand is broken. But his nose definitely is
Hangover Status: I've been bedridden longer than that kid from The Secret Garden. It's not looking good.
Boy did I ever crash and burn on the pickled egg pick up line.
puking in a sink with a garbage disposal Fucking. Rules. It's like you're punishing your puke when you're done.
Seriously, I want to give you a plaque thanking you for your dedicated service to my vagina.
We can just chill or day drink or smoke or watch law and order marathon or play just dance 4 or watch a movie or go to the movies or play hide and seek or hug, so many options
I'm so hungover I can't taste anything
I'm drunk doing an ab workout. I can only hope I make it to bed tonight.
If I could go one week without being called a maneater or a spanish trolip that would be great.
Could someone explain to me why there were 40 individually wrapped burritos in the fridge when I woke up this morning?
If he flies out here I will sleep with him. I have morals, but not when it comes to southern accents
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