I wanted to dispute a few 411 charges on my phone bill. The service rep told me I called them four times asking for Lady Gaga's number.
Oh this totally just became legit. My "boss" is puking outside my car right now. I win again.
He just refered to Steak and Shake as "a good place for couples". I will definitely not be shacking tonight.
From the trajectory of the puke, I must have fallen off the top bunk while trying to vomit, due to the dented bucket, ruined carpet, and bruised dignity I now own.
I was the one passing out cake at the bars
It's 9am. I'm four lines ahead of you already. Wake up.
I just tried to text you by typing "whoa" into my contacts.
I was just crying my tits off and he was just sitting there listening. I was an open book of embarrassing life stories.
Wine is not your friend.
I just sneezed and it made my entire body ache. Hungover is an understatement
If I had pants on, you wouldn't be getting this text message
I keep thinking your bag of thongs is a bag of chips. So mad I can't eat them.
I warned you. Don't come crying to me when your vagina refuses to forgive you for this.
Monday afternoon and I'm still hungover from Valentine's Day. I think I'm winning at the single life.
Update: He still has devil magic genitals.
I pointed at him and said “there goes mr fuckwad”
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