arguing about whether his trip to england or my trip on acid was better
You gave the cab driver your pants as collateral while you ran in the house for money.
I think he offered to cook me dinner or cook me for dinner. Not really sure. Just smiled and nodded.
Only thing I got out of his drunken Spanish is something that sounded like "pencil sharpener." Damn rosetta stone.
There's puke on my pillow. I'm still wearing my wedges. And I have a cab drivers number clutched in my fist.
You'd think the neighbors would be used to grown men coming into my house drunk at 230 am.
You left something at the house but since I'm back home now so I can just mail it over. Address?
I didn't realize you could put dignity in a box these days.
In light of your oncoming completion of twenty-three years of personhood, I feel a pressing need to blast country-pop phenomenon Taylor Swift's hit single "22" in your general direction until midnight.
T minus 20 hours until we forget our names, find some city cowboys, and g&t into the night.
And let me tell you, getting your ass waxed is the weirdest fucking experience.
I behisseth at your soul from the deepest darkest depths of the earth
I could tell my life story through kermit memes
You were so drunk, you kept telling everyone you had a platinum vagina.
Let's just face it you're going to have an arrangement with your future wife your fuck me on Thursdays
Drunk me is having trouble keeping up with sober me's standards
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