I wanna crawl in your skin and have dreams about Bobby Kennedy tonight.
O.A.R does not stand for Old Recycled Abortions.
I talked a bachelorette party out of a 4 person bucket of long islands, and drank it by myself. Please call me a taxi. The fat brides maid just grabbed my cock
I found a digiorno pizza in my washing machine.
Waking up in a pool chair wrapped in toilet paper is not what I planned when I agreed to movie night
Apparently, my drunken 3AM idea of safety is to send a GPS map of my location to someone 700 miles away. Seriously considering death as a viable alternative to this hangover. Death or Yuengling.
OH. MY. GOD. FUCK HIM. JUST GRAB HIM AND FUCK HIM.
Carson kissed me on my cold sore before I could stop him so I think I gave my kid herpes. Mom of the year. Just call me MOTY.
PA to anyone at the party last night and wondering where your pants are: they are in my backyard.
I just had to take my laptop away from him because he was on Amazon and had 20 Seahawks garden gnomes in his cart.
I'm making poor life decisions again. Tune in tomorrow to see how much I hate life.
Just broke into a house and crawled through a window. Upside: getting laid.
He stumbled out of the bathroom with his pants around his ankles yelling "tie my shooes!"
So when did "Are you okay?" translate into "Don't tell me you got fucked by another rando after another rager"?
I got dominos and had to stop whilst eating and take a moment of silence for how good it was
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