The walls in my apartment are so thin that sometimes when I fart, I stop to listen if people are laughing next door.
You know its bad when you're praying for a hangover just so you aren't still drunk at work anymore.
It doesn't matter if I tell the story beginning to end or end to beginning, the story still starts with a random girl blowing me in the bathroom.
And "sexual slave/chef" was as it turns out not a real career choice...
I found him in the livingroom trying to soak up broken glass with the clock from the kitchen.
The cab driver had me sign for the payment and I was like give me a second while I throw up right outside your door.
There was a reason that "Throat Warrior 2011" was written on my martini glass. He said my title was undisputed.
well i fell out of the hot tub and tumbled down the hill and kicked a plant in the process.
I'm so disappointed in myself I can actually taste it.
Does it taste like semen?
Can we pretty pretty please go to Mardi Gras tomorrow? I promise I'll be a good girl and not puke in a pledges car
I decided staying home, watching porn and masterbating was a much better choice than the gym. And I was right.
Hold me and let me compliment your butt
He was cheering for me from the end of the bar as I sloppily ate a Ruben sandwich. It made me feel really special.
you were walking down the sidewalk and just puked. didnt even stop or slow down and just kept going. i was so impressed i didnt even tell anyone you threw up on passing peoples shoes.
I just made deviled eggs for everyone not passed out. Im officially becoming a drunk chef.
Randomize
