Sooo, drunk me had the sense of mind to write down everything that happened last night.....I bet you thought you'd get away with what you did to my parrot.
He's trying to row the canoe up my front yard like he is Lewis and Clark.
She alternated between blowing me and feeding me bites of the sandwich she made for me.
That's the last time you call me to prove to some girl at a bar that you're English. It's bad enough that you actually get to fuck them because of it without having to wake me up to seal the deal.
Found your pants. They were stuffed in the tank of the toilet.
Am I the only one that feels like there are hundreds of tiny people having a rave and stomping and kicking around inside my head this morning?
would you say our friendship is at the "help each other shave animal patterns in each other's pubes" phase?
I'm giving you a get out of sober free card for one of the nights
Well... He is a good looking man underneath all the fat and muff.
I'm going to get like 25 drinks at their wedding and just leave them sitting around or give them to hobos.
Congratulations, you've begun to unfuck your life.
So a guy died and our dates revived him with CPR. Good night?
I swear, the cow we tried to tip tried to eat me. and all I could think was, oh how the tables have turned. worst trip ever
You missed the winter stoner olympics last night....I got the gold in blunt rolling
We should write a country song: “Blacked Out on a Sunday”
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