The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
the girls im babysitting are trying to see how much jello they can swallow without chewing...their future boyfriends are lucky
The only thing worse than listening to you two fuck all night was waking up and smelling bacon and there not being any left.
Homecoming wouldn't be the same without all the drunk old people puking on the street.
I've spent more money on drugs for bonnaroo than my actual ticket. Proudly.
Put a customer on hold today while I threw up. If I don't get employee of the month, I'm suing.
I made him a flow chart of what to do if I got arrested.
Something about being drunk at 1pm chasing seagulls on the beach while it's raining is very calming
I took a cab from the club to the grocery store. I needed peanut butter.
I woke up sandwiched between them, all of us naked, and they were just sharing a cigarette, a donut, and the paper like it was just some normal post-threesome Sunday brunch.
So I'm guessing that puking on a camper is a straight path to instant termination?
Moral of the story: I had sex to Back to the Future last night.
Just test drove the kilt for Justin's wedding. NEVER. WEARING. PANTS. AGAIN.
So Saturday night after 10 drinks I guess he tried to have sex with me and in the middle of it I asked "can you tell I'm faking it!?" and then I sat up and threw up in my hand. That's a sex Win in my books
I'm pretty sure the Bible says "He who is most sober may cast the first stone."
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