So, apparently I made everyone omelets last night. Even when I'm drunk, I'm still a trophy wife.
For some reason, my father is not responding to the 5 texts I sent him that all read: "Dad dad dad dad dad dddaadd dddddaaaaaaaaad dad".
All the walks of shame were condensed into the hour before parents started showing up. Move out day is so bittersweet
i am positive it's ok to drink. it's just pieces of the plastic knife i forgot was in the blender.
I'm glad the dog doesn't judge me for doing leftover lines and watching George of the Jungle at 10 am
I think he just made me trade sex for my cat.
I fucking hate you. Some slutty looking drunk chick backed her ass up across the bar and started grinding on you. You ignored her because you didn't want to share you drink
I care about my drink far more than her feelings
The last thing I remember was riding in a grocery cart with two strangers while a cop pushed us
Didn't want you to think it had been open season on my vagina since we broke up.
You realize we were screaming in the car about our apartment next year because we can "bring home randoms whenever we want" and "stare at each other from our door ways"
saw a dude wearin soccer cleats at the bar tonight. fuckin kiddin me man?
Our Tuesday night drunk Irish step dancing was on point tonight.
Every time I start to trust vodka, it does this to me.
Not sure if buying Twisted Teas for the alcoholics posted up outside the gas station counts as paying it forward but I am optimistic.
Just bought shot glasses from the thrift store. I think the guy buying a winter coat was even judging me.
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