I have a feeling that after last night, i'm not just going to hell. i'm going to hell on a full scholarship. free admission bitches
somehow in between the body shots the bong hits and trying to convince the 7-11 lady to let me fill up my vodka bottle with cherry slurpee. i misplaced my car.
shit pants at work. discarded underwear.
just showed this text to the guy at west elm. luckily we did not stool ourselves in the midst of the ensuing hilarity. so you're commando now?
yep! most awkward part is that i was a few feet away from a client, talking and looking him in the eye. i've never stooled while looking someone directly in the eye.
This is absurd. I need a man. Or even a moderately-clean hobo will do at this point.
apologized to him about 10 times for being drunk. told him about 15 times that he was "really pretty"
I feel like someone had their period in my eyes.
I'm sorry I got a little outta control last night.
I feel like if Miami and New Jersey fucked each other and produced a baby that would summarize the bar I'm in.
My only downfall is that I can only take shots in twos.
Just warning you the last time I had captain Morgan I gave a blow job to a guy that looked like Jesus.
I borrowed a glass of wine. And the bottle. Your cat said it was ok
Are you coming to class or was the dick pic this morning your way of saying not today?
Can I come take down that wallpaper yet? I stopped seeing that dude and I need to occupy my time with something besides getting drunk at bingo night and cussing out old people. Also, i'm not sure on the legal stipulations but I might have, unintentionally, committed grand theft auto at some point.
Caprisun cuts tequila surprisingly well...
Sara can't come to the phone right now. She's currently having an in-depth conversation with a flower pot.
He's getting so into these sexts, I hate to tell him I'm fully clothes, watching Bring It On and eating chips and salsa.
Randomize
