When black out puking doesn't involve crying and promises to never get drunk again... to just a subtle, 'excuse me while I go vomit in the bathroom of this bar'.. you know you've finally grown up.
I have a feeling that watching gay porn with you was the reason I was dancing in a hurricane of floating dicks in my dream last night.
Things I can say. There is a photo of me pouring whipped cream into a midgets mouth.
He ripped off his shirt and tried to give me CPR. That damn bong.
Sober me is really good at getting to the airport on time. Drunk me is really good at shitting my pants. Do you know how much pants cost at the airport????
So I think before Superbowl weekend begins we should all take a look back on last year and learn from our pitfalls... AKA no touchdown shots and kitchen crying.
So you met him?
More like I walked in on him, drunk, naked, and doing "bathtub yoga". Please stop bringing your dates home.
ok is that genuinely the first four bars of mozart's symphony #40 sharpied onto my arm or
Lesson: Never rollerskate with a 40 in your hand unless you have a destination.
I want to share a beverage of the alcoholic category with you, but I'm conflicted about getting out from under my covers.
He called me in the middle of the night to ask my shoe size. Apparently big feet would make me an unsatisfactory third for the threesome.
I had a dream that I got you so wet that you flooded my apartment
Moral of the story: fuckboys never change
It's just really funny to hear them talk about March for Life when literally every single one of those girls has had an abortion
last night you said that you wanted to hold my dick as you slept because it was like having a stuffed animal.
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