So yesterday I was on craigslist and I saw a listing for a sofa-cum-bed. I knew what they meant...
Pretending to care about her feelings is becoming a full time job
I feel like Tiger Woods should send Jesse James a gift basket or something...
I'm so used to throwing up its no longer a game of hanging over the toilet. Now it's just 'stand up, aim for the toilet, do my thing' then walk out
Bring more bourbon. Day drunk just hit another level.
It took him three days to realize his roommate had moved out.
In need of cum proof mascara. Don't judge me.
It's 1 AM and there's a guy outside my house belting out Bennie and The Jets. He stops in between verses to puke. I'm joining him.
I feel like someone had their period in my eyes.
I'm sorry I got a little outta control last night.
She's currently upstairs fucking her boyfriend while I am downstairs making them a sex playlist watching her boyfriend's Weiner dog and large Boxer try and mount each other. Marvin Gaye is playing. This is the ultimate third wheel fail.
apparently I crawled into someone's bed and demanded they call me 'big dog' before shotgunning a beer
I would have been very attracted to her had she not been reading me my Miranda Rights
All I remember is folk music and a lot of drugs. I am never going "on an adventure" with you again
I'm going to assume that "the army of generous folk dancers" is no longer a goal you are willing to fulfill
Trying to figure out what I just puked. Demon weed is salad. No more drunk buffets.
I want you to defile me in my childhood bed.
Randomize
