My drunk dialing habit needs to go. My drunk habit can stay though.
After 4 hours of foreplay he passed out and almost immediately peed in my bed. Naked. Like a fountain. Then tried to deny it in the morning by saying he just sweats a lot.
Why does my right nut always hang lower than my left nut?
Is it too much to ask that he stop calling me 'titty fuck' in public?
I just found him singing into an empty paper towel roll while microwaving an empty ice cream carton. I'm gonna run away now.
I figured out why I insisted on leaving my sweater on the ground outside. I smelled it and I'm 97% sure I peed on it last night
sorry can't make it tonight, greg's getting back from italy. he's had two weeks of carbs and no gym; now's my chance to get myself a piece of that newly-fat, low self-esteemed ass.
I have a pocket in my purse that is just for condoms and cocktail swords. I feel like that speaks volumes about me as a person
there is vomit in the pocket of my dress coat. i remember thinking "this is a weird place to puke" at some point in the evening, but i dont understand how i did this.
You got Broadway Drunk, dude. I haven't heard you sing "Music Of The Night" like that since the last time I was holding you up on the way to the subway at two in the morning.
"Like what guy would respond to 'let's fuck. I've got bagels'??"
Can someone please remind me later tonight that there's a taco in my purse. I may get drunk and forget I put it there
The last thing I need is a possessed urethra.
If I die at work, I want you to have my mustache collection
All I ever wanted was my bed, Tylenol, and total darkness. Instead I had a pervert with porno posters who blares german rock calling me tootsie pop. How was your saturday night?
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