after he passed out we removed everything electronic from his room, stuck in some old books and an ancient typewriter from goodwill. for 20 min. we had him convinced he'd drunk himself backward in time.
oh man. maybe i should puke on his dick? just to test how much he loves me?
we made malted milkshakes. malt as in malt liqour.
okay, I promise to stop paying strippers to hit you
Since you haven't talked to me since the rancid whipped cream fiasco, I'm going to assume we are no longer hooking up. But I need my handcuffs back. ASAP.
He said i looked like a shooting star sprawled out on the floor while i puked and i kept blaming "senor cuervo" for doing me dirty.
I just stole a conducting baton from the chicago symphony orchestra... i have to stop drinking on weeknights
Yes but that point is quickly negated bc u should never have to search more than one room to find your underwear.
I shit myself. Legit. And I burnt my tongue. Unrelated incidents, but related in the sense of general discomfort.
First night sober since New Years. I'm not sure what hurts more, the hangover or the credit dread when I find out what the tickets to Bali actually cost.
When you're looking for your panties tomorrow, you traded them for a blunt on the train.
Excuse me, but I got friendzoned and all I could think about was the fact that I didn't have my underwear back on yet.
Let's drink tonight I promise I'll make it out of the house
The moment when you and your BFF compare frequently used emojis and realize you have similar mental disorders and a really weak alibi.
Have you heard yourself have sex?
I'm not THAT loud...
My neighbors filed a noise complaint.
Randomize
