Drunk x Brooklyn = problems getting home. If I don't make it you can have my computer and my bitches. You're welcome.
I just woke up to a lawnchair covered in lipstick. I'm wearing red lipstick. What happened and is the tequila?
Tonight must have been good, I have already had two cups of coffee but still couldn't figure out how to operate a door.
I feel that the whole multiple orgasm thing is god's way of saying "sorry for the childbirth deal"
He told me the hand job I gave him this morning was "lovely".
you kept going on about how you couldnt haven been the one throwing up because you were peeing in circles.
I legit just woke up on my couch, snuggled up next to some guy who's wearing my roommate's pink bathroble. What the fuck do they put in those shots?
You turned to me, winked, whispered "man the harpoons" and walked out with the fat chick
I remember nothing except the fact it happened and I ate doritos and we highfived a lot
I found my keys in the basement freezer. Drunk me is a sneaky little bastard.
In the pie chart of my life, she is a huge part of why I drink.
I walk in and my mom has a Christian workout program playing. It's like, gospel music with an "electronic" beat to go with it. And then they try to save your soul at the end. I hate being home.
He said something last night about making crepes, but after getting pissed on in bed, I question everything.
The worst thing about having to live at your parents again is the struggle to make up more excuses to cover up the booty calls.
*tries to be fun and flirty* *literally gets peed on*
Randomize
