Well I woke up with a note on me reading Dear Passed Out Girl, and ending with why I shouldn't drink so much. Damn Tequilla.
Dude, at this rate we're going to get arrested a second time tonight.
Youre on making sure I dont black out around fat chicks duty
we just bought Vicodin from the Chinese delivery guy, this day just keeps getting better.
I apparently started to text you last night. All it said was 'the whole clam'. I hope that means something to you.
This will never work out with him unless I somehow learn how to unhinge my jaw like a python.
he may be homeless but his dick however is not... anymore.
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
We shot off some fireworks at 12 and then I orchestrated the group singing of god bless the USA all while wearing a don't tread on me flag as a cape. I repped hard.
Please don't smoke the bong in the bathroom while you shit. It is not a shitting bong.
Favorite thing said to me in 2012: It's like you have two tongues!
Were you keeping a list?
I came home to him frying bacon to put in his beer. He said bacon beer lights, taste the awesomer rockies
It just makes me feel nauseous. And I don't want to feel nauseous when all I really want is to get off.
Trying to put a fitted sheet on drunk is one of the boss levels of slutty adulthood.
You know why I love being a regular at this bar? It's because at a certain point last call is only a suggestion.
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