We need to start having rules for the weekends. Like no more downing 3 shots because we want to slut dance a little harder or because biggie just came on.
There are not one, but two women wearing my boxers on the couch right now. You need to wake the fuck up.
To the person who left a cup of vomit in the bathroom: I commend you for your aim but you are dead to me- not an ideal birthday present.
Ignoring the crisis im in. Sitting in the front yard in a kiddie pool. Wearing arm floaties, fins and a snorkel. Waiting for a hot guy to walk by.
the remote is under the fat chick passed out on the couch. Good luck .. and may god have mercy on your soul.
I'm going on a valentine's date with the random guy i hooked up with in the bar bathroom this weekend...i feel like julia roberts
I.V.'s should just be available for purchase at Walmart. God I'm dehydrated.
I'm not mad at you for letting me use my air mattress as a toilet, i'm mad at you for letting me lay back down on it.
Hooked up with a guy solely because he had a chameleon. Priorities.
I totally gave him head in sync to Beastie Boy's Sabotage playing in the background.
No memories of receiving this. Or of getting home. Or of apparently developing a taste for marmalade, which I assume is yours because I have literally never eaten it before. It's all over the kitchen. And my phone. And in my hair. Oh god I wish I wasn't on the train to work. X And sorry about the kitchen x
Stoned, drunk, and walking into the library. Look at me multitasking!
I'm about 95% it's a collapsed lung. Go big right?
Trying to put a fitted sheet on drunk is one of the boss levels of slutty adulthood.
Yeah if I don't text back. I'm eating. sleeping. Or lifting. Or drinking. Or playing call of duty. Like shit man
Randomize
