P.S. I can't hear my feet
There is something depressing about eating toast in a dark living room by myself using a paper plate that says: "Let's Party!"
i woke up in the fire place with a lighter in my hand. if i would have died the night would have made up for it.
I am at the point where deciding not to drink alone is worth a rocky music montage in and of itself.
There are bruises on the top of my foot. The pole won.
I feel like a squirrel prepping for the winter on dollar beer nights.
Pretty sure I was rubbing Halloween candy all over my face and saying "these are my bitches."
We didn't have sex because he locked himself in the bathroom and passed out while he was taking a shit. I cuddled with his cat.
The sad thing was my husband told her its ok to make out with me. Bar Tuesdays will live on regardless.
I didn't know where we were going to start fucking, so I just strategically hid condoms all over the house before he came over.
i spilled a box of white cheddar cheezits on the bathroom floor about 2 days ago. when i went back to the house he yelled at me from the bathroom: "THANKS FOR THE CHEEZITS, I'll ALWAYS HAVE A SNACK FOR WHEN IM SHITTING NOW!"
My 19 year old brother just hooked up with his 45 year old cougar kindergarten teacher. These sorts of situations make me realize why the sorority girls call him Wondercock
Guess who isn't pregnant with a random sex ocean baby?!?!
He's a cop. Do you know how many times I've said fuck the police? This is my chance. I'm taking it.
We really gotta wear capes to the bar more often...
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