I don't know how this happened but I got an email thanking me for being a Waffle House regular. HOW DO THEY KNOW?? Maybe I need to stop going there shitfaced.
i just got a clause named after me in the 'alcohol and drug use' section of the handbook. this is certainly a warning sign.
Within 5 minutes of max walking in his pants were off and he was wearing my snow goggles as underwear.
hotel security told us you walked into the hotel with blood all over your dress, weren't wearing any underwear and were escorted back by three men who were believed to be "homosexuals".
What's a nice way of saying "You fell asleep, and I got bored, so I made out with your brother"?
There is a homeless man handing out free beer on the city bus. He has a cooler and everything. I love this trashy yet generous city.
Left and drinking by a bar by myself. Everyone is in pajamas. I'm in a tuxedo. This is my life.
Hey, is this going to be a real date, or am I just meeting you at a hotel to have sex in the bathroom? Given our history, I think it's a fair question.
I figure that my generation of my family needs an alcoholic. I'll take that burden.
We dropped so many bottles they would only give us plastic cups. We actually drank ourselves back to preschool.
Just cleaned someone else's sperm off of my bedroom wall. Never throwing a house party again.
Almost threw up on my grandmother as she walked in the house. Had to run to the bathroom and vomit my brains out. Prolly getting taken out of the Will now.
the best part was at the strip club when he said he was "here to pick up my wife. she's up on stage.....wait that's my aunt". only in Ottawa.
So it turns out "let's pretend to be gay so guys will stop hitting on us" was step one in her plan to get me into bed...
I'm not kidding, he literally jumped in the red panda exhibit. I knew this was gonna be a good birthday.
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