His sex texting was like a step by step guide to the most boring sex ever...
maybe next time you shouldn't be drinking alone watching intervention at 3 am and no one would think you needed an intervention.
My lab manual has instructions for making home wine. Room project?
Operation liquormelon is in full effect. We may die tonight.
Hurricane my ass. I'm riding a god damn kayak down the flooded highway if it's the last god damn thing I do, god damnit.
okay - we take $20 and buy each other some 'drink till we puke' clothes from the thrift store.
DOMA is dead. I'm definitely going to be the last of our friends to get married now.
I was drunk and really grossed out when you poured cheese on me and, I guess I just freaked out.
My vagina needs a break, I had to ice it with a beer bottle last night.
The bar tender had his entire hand down your asscrack.
I forgot about that. I was in MULTIPLE dimensions.
And you know what the worst part is? Because of him I can now relate to a goddamn Taylor Swift song. FUCK. MY. LIFE.
He was passed out, face in the toilet, so I just pissed on his head. Serves him right
I don't know where you went, but if you're anywhere near the liquor, pour me another drink
He's a freak. Not like "freak in the bed" freak but like "eats glue in the weekends" freak.
Idk I just think that seeing that man's Twitter always resulting in me looking for the whiskey is a bad sign
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