I want to apologize 3 days in advance for what's about to take place on St. Patrick's day.
Got home. Hugged Mom. The look on her face indicated she noticed nipple rings.
He asked if I wanted to "hang out"
A verb which here means "do lines off my dick"
His new job just became new places to have sex at.
I won't be able to make it. Too hung over. Can't hold down fluids. I'm in the bathtub trying to hydrate my body through osmosis. And yes, Tequila Tuesday is totally still on for tonight.
Yikes. I usually have a 24-hour waiting period between sex partners. You know, like for a handgun.
I'm not sure any amount of coworker judgement will keep me from eating oatmeal with dinosaur eggs.
she was literally 3 feet away from the garbage can, said she couldn't make it, and then proceeded to vomit on the floor in front of everyone in the restaurant
I made a Russian puke. I outdrank a Russian. I am unstoppable.
Oh boy. Send him a care package with laxative cookies and alcohol. So he can shit himself while he's passed out drunk.
Come in your red robin gear. If you smell like French fries we can make love.
he drank half a bottle of bushmills, stood up to pee over the side, pissed his pants, sat in the puddle on the deck, told me my life goals were stupid and impossible, and wouldn't leave until 5am. by the time I got up at 8 I had 4 texts and 2 fb messages from him. AND HE STILL THINKS IT WENT WELL
Of two things I'm absolutely sure: 1. I only took 2 hits off that joint and 2. I definitely ran over hedwig on the way home
The fact that you cheered yourself on while you puked saying it was your first college puke, blacked out, and sang taylor swift to the toilet confirms the fact that we are related. I've never been more proud.
Look, I need your help, not your judgment.
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