I am drunk raised to the nth degree. The possibility of getting sick is approaching infinity.
All I know is it had something to do with a plunger and tuna salad. I'm done. I'm quitting my job.
Ur keys r in ur purse. ur purse is on the couch. ur cigs r on ur front seat. u drank all ur wine. mollie took ur jkt bc u cockblocked her. and in case anyone asks, the saints won 31-17.
my dad just said 'either you're lying about your plans tonight or you kids are really lame nowadays'. maybe we should nix the singles saturday slumber party and go to a bar.
You texted the wrong number but that's probably the best call you'll ever make.
he said i was so drunk that i shared a urinal with him and we simultainiously peed
We don't need a hotel, we'll just sleep in the post office.
Just faked two orgasms bc I had too much wine and remembered mid sex that I bought doritos yesterday.
He's coming over, and I hope he doesn't get hungry. I'm sure its not proper protocol to bring one booty call to another booty call's house for the munchies.
I distinctly remember calling the anesthesiologist a "sneaky little bastard" directly to his face
He handed me a beer to drink as he went down on me. I want to keep him
i'll talk to you in three hours when you've stopped foaming at the mouth and your eyes have rolled back into place
I appreciate the fact that you sent me a snapchat of your dick soaking in a cup of water.
Guess who's now on the no-fly list? If you guessed me, you'd be right.
The girls said some drunk guy in footie pajamas was asking for me when they opened the doors. I thought we agreed you were gonna stay home and microwave me some bacon.
i just read a article called "Booze, Drugs, and Bipolar Disorder"... i think someone is writing the memoirs of my life
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