I just counted my steps so I know when you start looking for you on my way back from the bathroom
You know how us drunks love counting steps
I will also inform you that stairs change when you change a house. Those hurt.
If we were unicorns we would fly together. Like in a pack. A pack of flying unicorns.
If you can't do the LSAT hung over. You can't do the LSAT. That's the real practice.
You spend 45 minutes trying to convince that pregnant girl you were with all night to have sex with you cause 'the worst had already happened.'
You filled up my voicemail with a slurred but graphic depiction of how you were humping a fire hydrant.
At Grandmas for dinner. She is drinking a smirnoff ice. As soon as I saw it I had to stop myself from yelling chug.
I just got a reminder alert on my phone for an event I titled "Bradley getting stupid high with me in bed." I assume we planned this during the party. I'm down if you are.
How do I enter a double puke and rally into my calorie counter?
FYI, grandma is already drunk and using a bed sheet as a table cloth.
I didn't punch him it was just love coming out of my fist
Dilemas of the modern woman: deciding whether or not to write on your ex's wall for his birthday. This is serious.
Right now, there's some ten year old kid getting ready to go outside and play basketball. He will soon find out his basketball hoop was no match for my car.
Swish.
As he put it in he shouted "geronimo!"
Wow... So was the sex good?
Yeah but it doesn't matter. My vagina is not a pool.
See that doesn't work because we've had sex so its awkward for you to call me mom
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