I got drunk and applied for two credit cards last night. About to find out if anyone in this world is still dumb enough to give me credit.
Outside the community dumpsters: beer bottles and a carton of orange juice. Looks like we were here.
The cop refused to sing with us, even though he was as happy as we were that the tow truck finally showed up.
she refused to get out of the dog cage till we sang "be our guest" to her.
I sat on his lap and we shared a beer. I feel like that's an invitation to his dick.
my host sister just stared at me as i knocked over the lamp, then took out all my chocolate, walked into the bathroom, and locked the door. i'm officially the worst exchange student ever.
There are beer cans & oyster shells along the side of the road. I belong here
that wasn't rum that I poured down your throat while you were sleeping
The thumbs up barstamp on my hand is mocking my hangover with its positivity.
Post-sex nachos deserve a song.
He said I showed up in just my underwear and a bunch of towels I stole from the party I was at.
We got banned from that Whataburger for life. WHATABURGER. Which is saying something. They deal with drunk dumbasses every night.
Tequila happens.
Why put me through the conflicting battle of being happy for your vagina but sad for my vagina for no reason ahole
I'm really going to need you to stop yelling Campari.
I want you inside me. Finish your papers.
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