I woke up with my face in a pile of pancakes and 3000 mistakes.
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.
I ended up taking shots of whiskey and chasing them with potato wedges, I have never felt more Irish
I already banned bobbing for apples. While drunk that's just drowning near fruit.
I'll have my hookups make my March Madness picks. Win my bracket, win my heart. That's how it works right?
Can we agree to not tell mom about this?
This isnt even the most disappointing thing i know about you.
Her boyfriend caught us fucking and said "cool you're cheating too" and left.
You live a charmed life.
I am pretty sure we beat baby seals over the head in a past life. That is why we are being punished.
That's what he gets for shittin at the strip club. Who does that??
My vagina feels like it's been kissed by angels.
I could be busy drinking my face off and getting red white and bruised per usual
Don't drink and shop. I went for happy hour and came home with a fog machine. I now have no other choice but to scare the shit out of my neighbors with it.
Just had to tell a NYC cop I was doing the Dougie in a houndstooth jumper so he could find me in the security video.
I'm laying backwards. On the stairs. Eating carrots. And drinking from a captain Morgan bottle.
My life is a random series of events connected only by bottles of Seagram's 7
Randomize
