I woke up to a shattered My Little Pony garbage pail, a black eye I don't know how I got and no one will look me in the face. Fuck tequila.
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Drinking wouldn't be drinking without mystery bruises.
I'm guessing you crossed your heart, hoped to fly, and stuck a cupcake in your eye.
I would be more concerned with why no one would look you in the eye. That usually means trouble.
Jose Cuervo doesn't fuck around.
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