And I just threw up at the table during Mother's Day Brunch.
You ended at least 6 stories with "and that's why I don't snort coke anymore"
THAT WAS PROBABLY MY ONE CHANCE TO SLEEP WITH A MAN NAMED BORIS AND YOU RUINED IT.
The fact that both my ribs are severely bruised from shoving flasks in my bra might be a validation of my mothers alcoholic accusation
Well I think it's fate. Considering march is my fave month because it's my birthday and st. Patrick's day. And his name is Patrick. I'm sleeping with him all through march. No question.
Hey hey, in my defense we were just suppose to watch Disney movies from a blanket fort with beer and nachos. I was I suppose to know it would end in tears?
I felt that there wouldn't be enough planB and forgiveness to go around
I just sent him 3 long ass texts about how to tell a girl how he feels. I should get a fucking friend zone medal.
I will make you one.
Good. It needs "forever alone" engraved on it
Next time she asks for a ride to her "cousins" house and it turns out to be a booty call we're charging her for each mile.
Let the record show that the first hour of my twenty-first was spent shooting tequila ans discussing the emotional integrity of werewolves.
I just opened my travel toothbrush holder and it smelled like vodka...maybe a vodka cranberry. This says a lot about my vacations.
And by "have lunch together" you mean me giving you a blow job in the back of your Tahoe, right?
I don't want to spend an inordinate amount of time with you, I want to have sex with you. Duhhhhhh.
These business classes have improved my drug business ten fold
When we were in Vegas he tried to get an Elvis impersonator to act dead on a toilet so he could take photos. This is even worse
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