Let's make love on the newspapers that declare financial doomsday
How many nights a week you wake up with sticky boxers cause you were dreaming of Clay Aiken? Your wife mad?
Dude. Creed is coming in september.
We're no longer friends.
I was cleaning up my drunken mess and I found my ID in a cereal box
I'm going to listen to christmas music to trick my body into cooling off.
At least our walk of shames never included a bag of chips and a jar of queso..
So getting drunk in honor of the bomb threat is legit right?
it wasn't sex so much as.....a disastrously uncomfortable sexual experience
Being home sucks. I haven't drank in like a week. Or smoked cigs. Or done drugs. Or had sex. My body is shutting down.
Omg. It's like you're one of those deprived kids living in a third world country. We need to save you.
I thought monday through wednesday was a YOLO free zone.
Got into Princeton. So excited about the mommy-issue-over-achieving-cock I get to ride the next 4 years!!!
Sober me admires drunk me's enthusiasm, but there is no way I'm going to make it out there today.
Lol drunk you is so full ideas and happy. Sober you is full of grumpy reality.
There's a 50-50 shot that I will wake up with an ass tattoo tomorrow.
You said too many real things and now I need to crawl back inside my protective fort of sarcasm, being an asshole, and sass
I'm currently drunk proofing my room
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