i just turned barefoot contessa into a drinking game. everytime she uses a knife butter or salt i drink.
I just tried to put my feet in my slippers and found cans of beer in them. Christmas in fucking july.
stuffed animals make me feel really maternal.
decision: in honor of being in new orleans this weekend all my drunk texts will be en francais
Shes sitting on the front porch puking in to the pumpkin she just carved...in the rain. I guess pumpkin spice tequila shots wasnt our best idea.
Fun fact: I don't want to be an actual functioning adult because why
there's no way I could forget finding someone else's hand in my pants
I just ate a raisin that tasted like wine. Is this real life or is this my body trying to tell me it's Friday and I should be drinking right now?
how is it that I keep meeting up with you when Im drunk?
you stand on my porch screaming my name until I come out with you...
The guy who's car I hit last night just followed me on Twitter...not sure how to feel about it.
I went with plan f. get drunk and start a fire in my yard
I woke up with my face covered in mustard. Your mom said I ate hotdogs like a pornstar
Alternately I could tell him western classical is just a series of events that had to happen for music to reach the point where Beyoncé was able to pen drunk in love, which is the pinnacle of humanity's artistic achievement thus far
Its okay I found my bra. ...it was on your cat. I wont ask questions.
I don't have a cat..?
Yes. I had to slow down my handjob so he would last...-and I give shitty handjobs to begin with
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