I'm watching the Australian Open. They need to slow the fuck down. It's hard enough to follow sober and now it's just pissing me off.
both roomates are passed out on the floor. I feel like I'm missing out on crucial bonding time by sleeping in my bed.
We made the pizza boy do Jell-o shots with us. He didn't even deliver to our house, we just called him over from the neighbors
I feel like I owe it to them to wear pants.
every single time I see a picture of the two of them on facebook, I want to just call her and scream "your boyfriend said I give the best head on the east coast". But I've been told that would be inappropriate.
For the first time ever I'll be using my lunch break to pass out cold on my desk. We've gotta stop having these late night drinking things on Sundays
I'm approaching homosexuality at an increasingly alarming rate with each break up.
It'd be easier to list the surfaces my ass hasn't been on.
Maybe next year when I'm 30 I will be over puking at lunch on Fridays. Maybe
I just instagramed a picture of an ostrich in case you were wondering what I did with my night
bought a large fruitopia from McDonalds at 7:45 this morning. Spilled it on the ground. Cried. THAT hungover.
All I need is a morbidly obese man masturbating at the other end of the car and I'll complete the CTA Horror Trifecta.
It's 1am and I'm on LSD and I have diarrhea in a Dunkin Donuts. Help me
I woke up in my neighbors backyard with glitter on my teeth and sparklers super glued on my bra. which part was your fault?
On a scale of 1 to shit show you were "i just pissed myself"
Randomize
