More dangerous that a broken heart and a shotgun.
Holy cold harsh reality of sobriety batman
how do i tell her that i need alcohol to fuck her but at the same time i cant get a hard on with alcohol.
apparently he couldn't remember my name so he refereed to me as whats-her-boobs and everyone knew that it was me he was talking about
In other words, he somehow found his way to my apartment, wasted, and was naked on my new couch. Completely naked. It was too special to pass up.
There was a guy on the elevator dressed as santa in flip-flops giving away beer.
Anything you tell me within three minutes of an orgasm isn't even being recorded in my head.
I just showered sitting down with a sippy cup of water in there with me. It took 40 minutes. That hungover.
There was a time I was reining queen of Sunday funday... And at that same time I also weighed 20 pounds more, had the morale of a spearmint rhino stripper, and woke up most mornings asking more questions than fucking Barbara Walters. I think I just wrote my own epitaph.
All I've done today is make sangria and wonder what the hell I'm doing with my life.
I'm slowly getting to where I don't hate people anymore.
Never mind. Some random dude just walked past me and asked if I was having fun. I snarled at him. I might still kinda hate people.
Just had a med school interview with that doctor I fucked in college. He remembered. Asked if I still have my nipple rings. Overall, I think it went well.
We really gotta wear capes to the bar more often...
Whatever douche. I sucked the dick that made you. I. Win.
What are you doing tomorrow?
Dude its my bday. Im drinking from sunup til face down. Rinse and repeat.
Randomize
