I drove you home. there is no excuse for wrecking your car 3 hours later.
gonna sleep on the stairs... to drunk to keep going up, way to drunk to go down, gonna find a comfy spot right here... its safer that way
This was worse than the time that I shot a bald eagle.
I think she must be bulimic. I mean, every time I see her I know i want to throw up.
He broke into my apartment to check his Facebook again, the beer is all gone, and there's a new high score on pac man.
He didn't dress up but kept finding random pieces of costumes on the floor at each club. He was an 80s hair band warrior at the end of the night.
If I die, I leave all my liquor in my apartment to you. Be a drunk bitch at my funeral. I wouldn't want it any other way.
we've coined the Sunday morning ritual of taking out our puke-filled trash cans as The Trash Of Shame
On a scale from 1 to the worst weekend of my life, that was an 11. I can see again, though.
I'm beginning to think the entirety of my appeal is due to the size of my ass.
no one ever believes me when I try explaining to them that your straight. I'm all like, "yeah that's his girlfriends dress he's stretching out"
May or may not have just put tequila in my special "kids+" orange juice fortified with vitamins a, b, c, d, e, and now t.
he has to serve us drink and appetizers in his french maid costume for the Pirates game tonight. Bring everyone.
ever since I turned 21 the mother-daughter bonding sessions always end with whiskey and my little pony. I don't know why, it's just a thing that happens
Watch out for the bush at the end of your steps. it comes out of nowhere
Randomize
