I'm going to have to call in sick tomorrow. After this weekend, there's no way I can handle hearing the accountants talk about double entry without puking.
please dont pick me up from the airport dressed like a terrorist.
You know, be my cock's hype man.
It reminded me of the time my mother gave my Bailey's in my stocking when I was 14.
Nothing says happy baby shower like showing up still kinda drunk from last night with an open tall boy in one hand and fries in the other.
All i remember is Liz dragging me home yelling at me, crying, and barfing
She kept telling me to calm down. I was on the floor with my eyes shut, not moving. In levels of calm I was one step above coma patient
you puked in the bathtub and said "let them pee"
She crossed her eyes and threw up into a glass while sitting at the bar. It was fifty shades of sketchy dude.
Do you want the fat one with an ok face or the skinny ugly one?
It doesn't matter as long as our shame is in tandem.
Well I never thought in the future I'd be able to say "hey remember that Easter I made porn?"
Seriously I can't get a booty call for some baked goods.
I knew my bag made it because I could smell the fireball that spilled inside of my suitcase before it was on the luggage carousel.
i can trust myself, just not when im drunk. and drinking is my favorite pastime
Even in drag you're still better looking than your sister.
Randomize
