Ugh now I'll have to carry around an overnight bag to all the bars I visit tonight. but hey! maybe I'll meet a dude! And need it!
I didn't mind getting the stomach flu from him. we had great sex AND I'm seven pounds lighter
I just realized I use Twitter to keep of track of when I get drunk.
I hate nights where "I found my underwear" can be considered a victory.
I don't talk to her anymore. I lit her birthday presents on fire. Who the fuck puts candles that close to tissue paper?
You just kept insisting that you and the homeless man went way back, and that you bonded over how cold you both were.
In her drunkenness, she packed a bag with tequila, two shot glasses, salt, a knife, and two pears. She was prepared but too high to distinguish pears from limes.
I'll just have to do enough fangirling for the both of us. Nipples engaged.
Congratulations, I drank so much for your birthday that I'm shitting blood.
I texted him in the morning wishing him a day as spectacular as his dick was.
he told me he had a gf and in the very next sentence asked if I wanted to have sex.
There's a Russian superstition that you'll spend your year the way you celebrate New Year's, so I'm honestly not that surprised you're drunk.
There's a little game I've come up with since the mess of a party I had; it's called "tinsel or condom wrapper? (or: what's that on the floor?)"
when i woke up w mysterious sticky crap in my hair, i assumed i had another blackout hookup. nope. turns out i made PBJ and proceeded to pass out in it. i ate the evidence when i woke up.
What happened?
Vodka. Vodka happened.
Randomize
