He never called back after I emailed him my booty call contract.
You're the 8th person from last night to text me this morning and ask if I'm ok.
There comes a time where you just have to sit back and watch the drunken idiots pee on each other
I concluded last night that you have no tear ducts, heart, or sense of any feeling.
I'm on my fifth cocktail in twenty minutes. I don't think I will end this on two legs.
That's the saddest description of touching yourself I've heard since someone said "I was just lazily rubbing my clitoris while eating Cheetos alone"
I'm sorry that I didn't get belligerently drunk and did not put my penis on your neck again
I WANT TO. I JUST IMAGINE HIS BEAUTIFUL BLONDE HEAD INBETWEEN MY LEGS AND I BREAK DOWN AND START CRYING.
All I remember is sitting on your kitchen floor and playing with a banana like it was a viking ship.
You want to know how I feel? I feel like Cady Heron pushed me in front of a bus last night.
Hopefully they won't bring up last year's Christmas party. I kind of predicted my great aunt's death...
I wish so many great beards were not attached to even greater jerks. All that face sitting potential wasted. Some of the greatest tragedies of this century.
I'm still drunk, my mom is throwing up, and there is a random Irish guy out getting our house breakfast right now. Wednesday's are my bitch.
I just got baptized.
Drunkenly skinny dipping in a indoor hotel pool is not okay and does not count as a baptism.
Drunk twilight is the only twilight
Randomize
