Mr. Last Night just informed me I told him to be very quiet when he left this morning and high-fived him as a goodnight kiss. Drunk me is slutty and manly.
"Guy Time" translaed into 10 shots apiece and me waking up covered in my own blood.
What I wanna know is who took a picture eiffel towering her?
I started making breakfast to subdue the hangover and last of the shrooms and only got as far as eating a half frozen pierogi out of a dixie cup.
I don't even know. I woke up in the bathtub with no shirt, covered in towels holding what appeared to be vanillia pudding mixed with captain morgan.
I just feel like I should give it a rest. I'm too old to be drinking bottles of grey goose and falling into koi ponds.
I may be new to bar life, but full on grabbing my vag shouldn't happen...anywhere.
It was rough. I have dried puke in my hair and I don't know if it's mine or from the girl I met on the ground waiting for a cab.
Dude at the bar last night came into the bathroom, drop kicked the stall open and start saying lines from happy Gilmore as he was shitting, "go in your home! Are you too good for your home?!"
For me the most fucked up part of last night was that I know for a fact that you were sober. But your dancing was a close second.
I woke up in the bathtub with money shoved down my pants. I must've done something right.
I need to align my fucking chakras
I called him Oliver all night
His name is Brandon
Dude... Those don't even start with the same letter...
I miss your drunken presence, and strong odor of hard liquor and potent weed.
I'm still very high. To be blunt. No pun intended.
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