I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
All i remember was he was wearing billibong pants... well actually my mom found that out for me.
omg. he's a virgin strip club employee who's going to college on a ping pong scholarship. this is unreal.
At what point in my life was I not hugged enough to be on my fourth walk of shame in half as many weeks?
It involved homemade coconut rum, a waterfall, and street signs. I'll leave the rest to your capable imagination.
Everything smells like beer. Everything. But I cant drag myself out of bed to take a shower. So beer it is.
No. I'm just saying it shows no signs of stopping. My dad was a man-whore well into his 50s.
I now have a full length bright red cape in my possession. Best sex trophy ever.
my poor anus
Same I threw up in 3 different cities already today
I woke up hugging my purse and I found a business card in my underwear. How?
I felt like a responsible adult. A responsible adult that may or may not end up shitfaced. But not heaving purple puke into a urinal like last time because I'm classy now.
Now all I want to do is stay up, drink wine, and look at dragons.
Every time I see this chick she's swimming naked at a pool party. That's gotta mean something right?
Great, now I'm picturing myself as a fucking garden gnome
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