Drunk in a bar in Texas. The 24 y/o hottie I am chatting up just called me a male cougar. I am dealing with this whole turning 40 thing juuuust fine.
my boobs just fell out on the dance floor. my wedding is totally beating your wedding
Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
I think misery doesn't even think of me as company anymore. I'm an unofficial roommate.
the vast amounts of cleavage i'm sporting to my final says "no, I didn't study but don't worry I've got something lined up for when I don't graduate".
Here. I am here. I do not know where here is but it includes condom balloons, a keg castle, and a shaved goat. Do not find me...I am in post blackout heaven.
So she just apologized to the fire extinguisher.
She was stumbling around looking for her cat. She said i could help, but i had to call him by his jungle name
You'd be proud of me. They tried to give me bread to sober up, but I told them no, im on a diet.
I was an emotional waste case that night. She made me stroke her ponytail.
I said I usually like going out for coffee before torturing someone's genitals. He said he understood.
Bad news. I baked you a cake and one of my fingernails is missing.
I'm hungover as hell. I'm dying. I have no skin left on my knees
Today is a wonderful day to be mildly hungover
You made out with him a lot. Almost as much as you told everyone Paul was the zamboni guy.
Randomize
