We walked past a group of guys in front of a bar last night and they claimed, I quote: Wow, we'd actually have to work for that.
my mom just told me how she used to love having sex while stoned. wtf.
you asked a group of latinas stood by the bar to hold a minutes silence for ugly betty getting cancelled. that drunk.
Their bromance is so intense that they don't even eye-fuck when they see each other....they eye-make-love.
after we finished, she said she had been a backup performer for Cirque du Soleil. THAT flexible.
I can't cum and do my makeup at the same time.
It was like riding a jackhammer on a train during an earthquake. THAT amazing.
Well, I found my bra. It's in my glove compartment with a half-eaten Snickers bar and a Jesus bookmark.
Shit. I'm running the whole hotel right now. The front desk girl had to run home because she left her vibrator on the counter and her brother, mom, and grandmother surprised her and are showing up to her place before she gets off work. This will end badly no matter what.
You grabbed the hot guy that was making out with his girlfriend all night, slurred "I need to borrow this" then shoved your hand down his pants. All because you thought your ex walked into the bar. It was majestic in its shitshowness.
You got a write up and a first aid award all in the same night. The don was impressed!
Let's stay in this weekend and play drinking games to the Winter Olympics.
As long as we can drink anytime we see a stray dog, mafia looking Russian or double toilet.
my life is turning into trapped in the closet at way too fast a speed for me to feel comfortable.
It's three am. I'm drunk in a stairwell in Vegas. My flight leaves at six. Help.
Tonight was a total waste of a shaved vagina
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