Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Mr. Last Night just informed me I told him to be very quiet when he left this morning and high-fived him as a goodnight kiss. Drunk me is slutty and manly.
girl has like over 50 stars tattooed on her front, side and back. feels like i just fucked the universe.
there was a guy who was being paid to stand outside of Abercrombie without a shirt on... normally i would be okay with this but he was 40...
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Ya know, years from now when that kid is old enough, I'll get to regale him with the story of how I was his father's AND uncle's first gay experience.
Mother fucker. I'm a 30J now. I'm fucking speechless
He's a good guy, we stopped by his old church.
And you didn't burst into flames?
Woke up to a bouquet of flowers in my toilet bowl. Drunk hubby loves me.
I still cannot believe I yelled at every guy at the bar "you wanna get in this clam?!"
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Your excessive judging is making this uncomfortable
On that note if you see a hobo smiling with a pack of cigarettes and an AMP energy drink, that was my good deed for the day
I don't get hangovers. Except once. And there is a massively epic story behind that, involving so much alcohol I should have died, and 13 raw hotdogs.
At the bar, some guy bumped into you and you screamed "hey, don't touch what you can't afford sunshine!"
I need to go home for the safety of everyone in a 10 mile radius, especially me
so i may or may not have just had sex on the stage of the lecture hall....
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