She had a bottle of NAIR in her bathroom, but she clearly hadn't been using it.
Walk of shame was bad enough, but farting with each step as I walked past his roommates was just not cosmically fair.
glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling from '98 totally make blowing him more romantic.
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
I resisted the temptation to hold the cake in one hand to alternate bites with the ruffles I was eating. I decided that might make me look dysfunctional.
I only know two things that kitchen floors are good for... sex and quesadillas that got dropped. You know, the five second rule
There's always a certain something about a day that begins with your panties in your purse.
I definitely think in addition to buying paint ball guns this summer we should invest in a breathalyzer. That way every drunk night turns into a competition, who can blow over the legal limit more. The loser gets shot while hungover. Shit goes hand in hand if you ask me.
I'm tripping balls on ambien right now and I still feel that's a bad idea.
I just tried to order ice cream on my bagel. I think I should just call it
I FUCKED WHEELCHAIR DUDE
HE'S INTO WEIRD SHIT
GOOD KIND OF WEIRD SHIT
Why did I wake up naked with a leg cramp and and extra $550 in my wallet?
Remember that time I came to London for 4 hours, got hammered, cried for an hour and then left.
Did you see her happy birthday to emily on facebook? The gist of it is like: hey emily you almost died at birth im glad you didn't. love mom.
Is it weird I can only picture you in my heels naked?
Be proud; I'm a versatile boyfriend
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