You can't wash away shame.
I can try.
Nyquil jello-shots aiding in health and happiness
Just threw up in the waiting room. I can't believe I have to switch dermatologists again.
No. No. And hell no. If you are driving a Honda Fit you are not allowed to give me a dirty look. No.
Theme for your birthday? Beer olympics in S&M costumes? Sounds like a nice little saturday
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
Here's my first problem: I'm drunk
You were telling me last night 101 proof was nothing and you needed 400 proof or better yet military or marine proof, because you're marine grade.... You rascal.
I'm puking in a turkey pan....
When I die, I want you to spread my ashes at a Cracker Barrel.
Drunk logic "let's go outside in front of the bar to get sick"
And I'm glad you're waiting to invite him over. he may have a weird penis thing and then dinner becomes awkward.
Driving from bar to bar trying to recover all of the possessions I've drunkenly lost over the course of the past few nights. Actual nadir of my life and absolute height of shamblyness.
Props for using the word nadir
I'm so hungover I can't taste anything
30-degree weather + Metal Cockring Monday = really hard to pee.
I love him about as much as I'd love fucking myself with a cactus.
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