i'm dressed up like the coppertone baby and being hit on a guy in a monk costume. the irony is not lost on me.
you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
You were humming mission impossible as we ran from the cops
She said I came to for a minute, shouted IHOP!! and then shook my head and said no before passing out again
I don't care. I'll text you about my butthole whenever I please. That's what you signed up for in this relationship.
I'm just going to text him the word sex repeatedly until he comes over.
Did it work?
Duh, it only took 27 texts and 15 minutes and he was at my front door.
Yeahhh, everybody is so helpful when a pretty girl is crying hysterically and has only one shoe and a six pack.
Tried to figure out where I was without opening my eyes this morning for like twenty minutes. Not even close. Not even the right state.
First time for everything: started posting a Facebook comment, decided I'm not quite sober enough. Progress.
Monday funday. I brushed my teeth with antibacterial soap. hangover I did not have.
I either forgot underwear this morning or lost them at work and I seriously don't know which.
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
we're so committed to being not committed
I am texting my fuck buddy about fucking tonight, while facebook chatting with his wife about food.
Sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower washing away my sins and sweat. Please tell me you want to get drunk as shit later.
Randomize
