I just got three quarters of the way there before I realized I was way too stoned for class so I bought a smoothie and walked home.
I decided that just having that story under my belt and being able to tell it to my grandchildren is worth the regrets of the evening.
Just wanted to let you know that I always win at "whose ex is crazier" because of you.
So it turns out there are pros and cons to having a broken wrist. Pro: I can give amazing blowjobs with my left hand. Con: I just had to open a packet of crisps with scissors.
He's sobering up. It was really bad for like 45 minutes. He cried while telling me how he pictured us eating hotdogs on the beach together.
There're making snowcones with the leftover vodka from last night. This is not the time to be making up excuses!
Nothing like puking into an empty cooler at a red light on the way to get plan b.
ALERT: Turns out when I'm drunk I turn into a clepto. I just found keys, a ketchup bottle, and sweatshirt in my backpack that don't belong to me. If yours, come collect from me. I'm still drunk in the back of biology lecture.
I wonder when walk of shame thursdays in the rain will finally make me stop drinking.
Hangover or death. Death. I'll have a slice of death please.
I'd rather blow Nickelback than be told he gave me gonorrhea. I'd even post it on Facebook for all of the world to like, share, and judge me.
You brought a jar of mayonnaise to bed. It doesn't get any worse than that.
I am descending into that finals week rage fueled by ramen, mountain dew and bad sex is what's up.
Adulthood is punching a guy in the face when you find out he's trying to fuck you and he's married instead of fucking him regardless and believing anything he says
I cam home to find him twitching on the floor, surrounded by unopened condoms and covered in cranberry sauce (yes I tasted it) while Thundercats was playing.
Randomize
