My financial advisor pointed out that 37% of my income is currently going towards "non-essential food items"
That's banker lingo for "you're an alcoholic"
I like my landing strip. Makes me feel sophisticated.
What you did last night can never be called sophisticated. I don't care how you trim your pubes.
I have so many hands. So. Many. Hands. I can feel arms that I don't have yet. They tickle. I can see the blood in my eyes. I think something is happening. The hands!!! I'm ticking myself with hands I don't have yet! I can't stop giggling about my notyet hands!
I was at that stage of drunk where it seemed appropriate to just make out with everyone. As like a greeting.
I hear you
This is simple. Just sex and high fives. No feelings.
Overslept. So hungover. Apparently texting the first person in my contact list the time I would like to wake up is not how the alarm clock in my phone actually works.
Just like to put it out there it's surprising how little reception a dog cage has
Except if I'm having sex. In which case you're in the bed with us or out of the room. No halfsie participation.
Oh I will totally be your beard, but on one condition I get to watch you and your boy friend have sex.
It all started because he put my damn phone in his pants. By his crotch nonetheless.
The police report said "I asked the suspect if he had any identification. He replied yes and gave me a Pizza Hut gift card"
I smoked my last bong as the sun rose. It was magical.
It's like the drive of shame on fucking Christmas. Happy birthday Jesus
you never keep up with shots anymore
I'm trying to be more responsible these days
you fucking tried to take your pants off and pee in Taco Bell's parking lot
I'm on a party bus with a stripper pole with middle aged women who have all started drinking
God bless your soul.
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