Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
I am scared. I picture you doing a keg stand on a sinking ship with hula girls cheering you on. Please text me when you get back to shore...or now would be good
This girl named her kid Rainforrest. If I die, just know it was from laughing so fucking hard.
The fact that I found him in his Ninja Turtles t-shirt next to six empty and obviously consumed packs of EasyMac watching reruns of Becker certainly made telling him that I wanted a divorce so much easier than I had planned.
The bouncer yelled at him for poking at the guy selling roses, I think it's time to leave.
Seriously, I'm ready to settle for ugly and unemployed as long as he has decent hygene and likes to go down.
You fought the bouncer and lost, then challenged a hobo to a 40 chugging contest and lost. Sobriety is a good life choice.
I've already agreed to hook up with 3 people tonight, and its not even 2:00 yet... I think this is what the path to success looks like.
The picture on Facebook I was just tagged in, with the mask, that is the definition of Carmen, my drunk alter ego
Woke up with a 22 year old with the number for a different girl written on my stomach, almost 30 can suck my dick I still got this shit
How was my night? He had a picture of his mom on his night stand and he yelled "Papi like" when he came. Fuck tequila.
If I die here, tell my vagina and my cats that I'm sorry.
Death by dick. An honorable death. Put a picture of his dick in the photo collage at my funeral.
I have a vagina. So i automatically win.
He said my vagina smelled like pomegranates. Its like my vagina is the fountain of youth.
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