I called the bartender Mr. Intoxication last night. He thought it was funny until i threw up and blamed it on him
when she started arguing that Girl Talk was in fact a DJ, i knew i could never sleep with her
the best part about watching a meteor shower at 4 am is being able to masturbate in public and drink hot chocolate at the same time.
When she can manipulate the direction of her leg hair, you know its time to leave
He's the equivalent of a body pillow and a dildo. But still funny. We have good pillow talk.
I just brought the toaster out onto the porch to light a cigarette, don't talk to me about being desperate.
I'm getting to the point of going up to a guy and saying "Hi I'm maggie and i can put my foot behind my head"... That desperate.
His fuck buddy just got fake tits and wants him to 'come break them in.' I need his life.
By this time tomorrow I expect us to be sitting at the kitchen table either playing a drinking game, or crying. Set an alarm
Judging by the fact that he asked me if i wanted to serenade him using cocaine and Taylor Swift I'd say I so have it in the bag.
I think I might be harboring a Canadian in my womb.
I also know you puked in your shoe.
That would explain the note .... I apparently wrote myself an apology note from drunk to sober me .... saying "sorry for the fancy shoe soup" .... ugh I'll never drink again ...
I feel like hooking up with you on my floor, sneaking out my window and jumping a fence is an effort that deserves a happy birthday.
Jarrod's passed out on the chair with a cup of milk and I've been staring him down in an attempt to use telepathy to make him spill it. Attempts unsuccessful.
Gatorade without vodka just doesn't taste the same
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