we didnt even make it to the club...the two of us were sharing a plastc bag in the taxi puking into it.
I would call you but I don't feel like these hands belong to me.
Now that I'm single, I like to think of myself as in a relationship with Taco Bell.
They can be so fun, drunk bruises are like clues to the treasure of what actually happened last night. "why do I have a bruise on my belly button? oh right. i was trying to turn my stomach off so I would stop throwing up."
You kept whispering "Party Dave" every time someone would start talking.
I had lunch with him today and quietly mourned his wasted good looks on such a disappointing set of genitals.
I woke up at 4 am to a guy curled up in the fetal position sobbing in our front yard. Oh college.
I got drunk and tried to make special rice krispie treats, but I made a mess and they were all stuck to my hands, so I just decided to eat my way out of the catastrophe and I think shit's about to get even weirder than usual.
I can't believe you guys got into a sword fight over a chicken nugget
Oh, so that's where all the scratches came from...
I'll probably just end up banging you in your parents marital bed,in their honor of course.
Whenever a guy asks me why I like weird sex stuff, I just answer, "Catholic School".
Was last night real life? Like did you really light your hair on fire
I seriously just had to blow dry my thong.
Please stop calling me a pterodactyl during sex. It only happens when you're drunk, but still.
It was funny for a while but 3 days later I still can't walk and I've constructed a diaper-like contraption to hold the ice pack on my vagina.
Randomize
