Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
I'M GETTING MARRIED!
YOU'RE STILL MARRIED!
I have tardy slips. and absent slips if you don't show up to the bar. and trust me, if you are absent there will be a saturday school. I'm teaching you how to drink tonight.
you made sure to tell everyone that the amount of people you had slept with was actually quite low, especially when the size of your breasts was taken into account
Found out that no one else got Christmas bonuses...and you said nothing good could come from sleeping with my boss.
Get to the bar. Power hour leading up to the rapture.
The homeless guy out front said it's his birthday and he asked us to join him for happy hour after work. He's buying a fifth of gin to celebrate.
She gets me. First thing she said this morning "I'll buy breakfast if you can tell me my name."
Ummm so does anybody remember me stopping to get my ear peirced last night and make an earring out of a staple? Or did I just somehow lay on this thing and ram it through my ear?
Please ask me to tell you about the time I watched two of my friends chase my drunk roommate with a broken foot around downtown
My liver is fucking rocky. Get knocked down 7 times and gets up 8. World champ
watching spice world high feels so wrong yet so right
Your "whiskey dick" is glorious but also terrifying
Can you please stop fucking every bartender in the city? Just once I want to have a Jack and Coke without fielding questions about your availability.
Yeah that stuff was rough. We insisted on wearing our bikinis all down college ave, and at several parties that were not beach themed
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