Waitress cut us off at Chili's bar. New low
I have on cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat. I'd say I'm a little past tipsy
she made me cover her fishbowl with my shirt because she "didn't want to corrupt it."
Apparently I ran up to the group of cookie-cutter blonde chicks and screamed "Delta Gamma Nuuuuuuu!" really excitedly and tried to hug them and share fake sorority stories with them.
It would be like bopping for an apple with my penis but never winning an actual prize. The only thing I would get from it would be the joy from taking part but then regretting it forever more
I was pretending that it wasn't happening. Until we had to roll down the windows as she was vomiting apologies into a Target bag.
The important thing is not that we avoid making mistakes, but that we avoid learning from them.
He is peeing inside and sticking up for himself. Those are two of the four signs of the apocalypse.
My underwear are in the stairs so apparently I did take the dog out.
I'm permanently fucked. Every liquid I put into my mouth automatically tastes like fireball.
She answered the door wearing a basket, said it was the only clean thing she had.
I just forgot I was standing up.
They were out of watermelon smirnoff, so we got you a fifth of 5 o'clock and an actual watermelon.
I just realized I had arrested my one night stand from last night...
He wants to play improv games now whenever he gets drunk. Sometimes I just do not have the energy for that kind of a thing
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