Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
I feel like I should put "don't judge me" in the special instructions for the pizza guy.
the majority of my texts from you are at 3 AM & consist of either "I'm drunk", "you're asian", or "bratwurst"
There was definitely a significant amount of cookie dough in my bra
My cab driver just suggested I brush my teeth because he can smell "the party" on me.
Yea he called the cop officer fonzarelli and asked him if he was mad because happy days was off the air. Boom, beaten and arrested
I literally got so drunk last night, I texted myself "porpoises" and that was it. I have no recollection of this.
Girl re-adjusts bra, no one bats an eye. I re-adjust nuts, everyone stares.
So his shoes are still here. And there are three contacts in a case. And a shirt on the bed. I've checked my dorm and he's not here. I'm so confused.
U touched your head and and said "oh look blood" and then looked at me and touched my face... And said war paint
I forgot my backup drink is supposed to be pedialyte and vodka. Add in the shit I'm losing as I drink. Win-Win right?
I'm sitting in the shotgun seat of my car on full recline trying to pretend everything is ok
Tequilla is a sneaky bitch ninja that doesn't kick in until you least expect it. Then BAM! You're peeing in unconventional places.
Pooping to opera.
Well, I was arguably the most sober adult in the house by 1 in the afternoon, so I'd say Superbowl Shitshow was a success.
Randomize
