It's my fault I'm alone. My closest relationship is with my blackberry....thank god it vibrates.
Should I be alarmed that you're a regular enough at a bar to show up in sweatpants?
Based on the pics I have taken of hookups while they were passed out or sleeping, I have scientifically concluded that no two vagina lips are the same. They are like snowflakes.
The gay bar tender told me I looked like Prince William. And that I needed my balls licked.
My night ended with Em alternately crying and throwing up in the arms of a guy wearing a cutoff and a tiara. I sat holding a garbage can and wine glass full of water wondering how our night got to this point.
Drunk in burger king. Having it our way. Free fries. M&m sundaes.
I am so juiced up on period drugs and coffee I feel like my skin is going to fall off.
If you have shit your pants within the past two years, please take a seat.
I'm counting my small victories this morning. For instance, I haven't puked at work yet.
He lit a candle for the mood and ended up lighting my hair on fire while we were hooking up...moodkiller
I feel like I beer bonged a ton of asbestos
They cut me off when I tried to pee in the corner of the bar.
I swear to God if you start calling your dick “my pegasus” we’re not friends anymore
If my body were a person, it would be beating the shit out of me for what I did to it last night.
I prefer to think of hangovers as extreme sobriety, which can only be cured by more booze
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