I am good. I dancing. Drinking but dancing fine.
I was looking through my facebook friends list to see how many ppl on the list i've hooked up with, and was effectively reminded of my failed friendships, relationships, fuck budy-ships, friends with benefits, and "i cant remember if i ever did shit with him but we're awkward now" ships.
we have officially mastered the walk of shame
we just did breakfast shots, I have a black eye and savage garden is on . Best weekend ever
i woke up surrounded by junior mints. not to mention, there was a huge pyramid of natty cans baracading the door shut. this is why i can't drink alone.
I don't go on dates. I watch tv and play with dicks. dinner is a situation.
My face is tingly. And my legs are being massaged by golden elves.
So... Apparently, "Home" isn't the correct response when a cop asks for your address...
because i know somewhere at some party, behind someones closed bed room door youre being feed a key full of mollie.
Is it acceptable to have my intern get me pedialite and plan b?
It's a learning experience. She can add to her resume that she cured her bosses hangover and poor decisions
I've never wanted to punch a 94 year old woman in the vagina, and then call her next of kin to tell them I just muff punched their Gam Gam until today.
Dude I'm at a bar, and there's this Elvis impersonator here that I went to rehab with. Apparently Elvis has left the wagon.
This is your morning-after text courtesy of your very confused friend!! :) To discuss "what the hell were you trying to tell me last night," press 1. To laugh over your drunken antics, press 2. To pretend like none of it even happened (or to respond with concurrent confusion because you have no idea), press 3.
99% of the contents of my handbag are ketchup packets and condoms. I feel that says a lot about me as a person.
You're just upset because I have cupcakes and boobs and you don't.
Randomize
