You know it was a good weekend when; you leave a bi-lingual letter of apology on top of a stack of cash for hotel housekeeping.
I am more familiar with your toilet than I ever want to be with any appliance
I wore water proof eyeliner just incase the first picture of me of 2012 is a mugshot
Your cousin just asked the bartender to start a round of vagina shots. Not body shots. Vagina shots. We're taking her out more often.
My boss just told me not to come back to work if I decide to drink. Challenge accepted.
I'm going to make out with someone. I'm on a mission. I don't even care if I'm wearing beer goggles. As long as he's not shorter than me, gay, or a woman.
I hate being near you and not being able to do what I want. It's like a recovering alcoholic tending bar. I feel like Sam Malone. Except I can't bang the cute chick I work with.
My taste buds are fucked up, everything tastes like fire after last night.
He is sitting on the foor in the soup aisle saying "to each their own soup"
My vagina feels like it's been kissed by angels.
MORE IMPORTANTLY I THINK I JUST WATCHED SOMEONE GET SO LONELY AS TO TURN BISEXUAL??
Why do guys insist on chatting me up this early in the morning? I'm just like "Dude, I look like the bastard child of Einstein and a troll doll. Let me eat my Hot Pocket in peace."
We hooked up last night. I think it was great for our friendship.
sober me is the one who makes bad decisions every boyfriend I've ever had I met sober
He lured me round with the prospect of sex and then made me proofread his CV and spoon. I fucking hate this guy.
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