If i'm not hungover, near death, and wondering what i did the night before on Monday, life is not worth living.
My mom just found some of our lube mixed in with my box of pots and pans. I hate moving home.
Stage 55 clinger. not a typo. I cannot even believe this shit.
Only you can can turn Jenga into a drinking and then a sex game.
I will not ride trays down a flight of stairs topless and drunk....
Standing on the street at 6am in Hong Kong drinking beer. Watching all the hookers do the walk of shame from our hotel. How did I get here? Maybe all my bad choices in my life were really good ones?
We are not on the "bring me breakfast" level. He's bringing me penis if I ask for breakfast too I'll just sound greedy
we're a generation of lazy underachieving stoners and uncreative overachieving automatons. you're golden
Wrapped in a blanket, just ate a whole party pizza. All my dreams are coming true and you don't even care.
Teaching my class, used paper clips to fix my hair. Too hungover to be a kindergarten teacher.
Went home w the NY Islander in a NY Rangers jersey, needless to say he was pissed
I made the last cup in beer pong off the dude's hat. I also faintly remember rapping Forever by Drake during said game.
I was covered in mud from my knees down, I smelt like the inside of a port-a-potty and only had mascara on one eye. . . so you know your usual Sunday brunch.
You handed me your heels and said, "barefoot running is all the rage." Then you proceeded to run home.
A true gentleman never tells. But yes, I did indeed get laid last night
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