So I called her out for all the gossip she does and she's like "you do the same, bitch"
So I was like "Im classy like the Countess, youre just a bitch like Kim."
Kudos on the Interstate Housewife metaphor.
I just remembered we said the Lord's Prayer before we went out last night.
Apparently tackling a bar stool and crashing to the floor while yelling for 6 shots of whiskey won't get you thrown out on St Pattys Day.
My vagina is scared and excited at the same time. It might not be able to sleep tonight.
I think my goal for this black wed is to not scream at an off duty state cop in a bar after trying to flirt with him. No need to make that an annual tradition
They can be so fun, drunk bruises are like clues to the treasure of what actually happened last night. "why do I have a bruise on my belly button? oh right. i was trying to turn my stomach off so I would stop throwing up."
Which one of you fuckers thought itd be funny to see if the kitchen table can float.
If you do that, i will make all sorts of uncomfortable comments about my nipples being soft
You asked the bartender if she was trying to get you drunk. She cut you off after that.
wearing the bible to the ABC party, thought you'd appreciate that.
Listen I just pulled white girl hair out of my underwear. This has got to stop. I was wearing pants all night.
Blacked out and Irish exited last night. At dinner. On a Sunday.
He tried to brush a hair off my cheek, but turns out it was just a freakishly long chin hair. So no, we didn't bang.
she chased shots of jack with a fucking steak. i'm in love.
Never. No amount of alcohol could convince my brain and eye sight that it is okay to fuck him. I'd rather fuck my cousin.
Randomize
