I picked my nose. Flicked it. I heard it hit something. Next thing I know, it's floating around in my wine glass.
In my defense it was my birthday and I really wanted to do it.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
Dude, you sent that text at 9:44 AM. Who thinks of drugs that early?
The shit show didn't end. it just relocated itself to my apartment instead of yours.
you also need to get my treadmill fixed.
I created a photogrid for every picture he has ever sent me of his penis. Now I can see every angle at one time. THIS IS GREAT.
This storm betta not fuck with taco tuesday
i'm going as a slutty football player, and all night i'll drunkily whisper "id love to catch your balls." into random strangers ears.
Pretty sure the shower sex fucked up my hip alignment... im walking like im 104 today
Trying to figure out what I just puked. Demon weed is salad. No more drunk buffets.
You just gave me the title for the series of our lives. Haha. Chapter 12: the cocaine on the back of the hairbrush
I know I'm high, but the dude in target definitely just told me that it's best to walk through every door in life like you're a t-rex....
I accused the cab driver of smoking weed in the taxi then I remember it was me.
Last night a drunk chick tried to lick me. If you are trying to lick the zombies, you are too drunk for the haunted house.
I kept screaming that he looked like Khal Drogo and rode around the bar on his back.
Randomize
