Just so you know, each of my boobs fits perfectly in a martini glass.
I'm not sure how exactly, but this funeral has turned into a ridiculous night of drinking games
Woke up to the first three complete chapters of my new novel titled "If My Dick Could Talk" waiting for me on my laptop
we were shitfaced at work by 8pm. I had to stop myself from pouring vodka in everyone's cappuccino.
In case this wasn't clear when i said being his wingman was "hopeless", his date walked out on him when he poured a beer on his head trying to shotgun it
I wasn't hungover this morning. My head just hurt because someone tried to suction cup a dildo to my forehead.
It was smashing those cupcakes into my face that did it. Junk food and I don't mix.
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
Just found dollar bills in my sheets. What part of the weekend am I forgetting?
And thanks to you I'm pretty sure I'm banned from every qdoba in south carolina. And cab company
He got hotter. I'm offended on behalf of the rest of our graduating year.
I'm currently deliberating if I'm going to be too drunk on New Years to handle wearing false eyelashes.
you were walking down the sidewalk and just puked. didnt even stop or slow down and just kept going. i was so impressed i didnt even tell anyone you threw up on passing peoples shoes.
Now i know i wasnt that drunk... So why are there texts of me volunteering for a nude photo shoot for an art major student?
My moral compass kept pointing to his penis.
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