Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
She forced me to throw up so it would "rejuvenate" me. It worked and then we took six more shots and did a keg stand. You know what I call that? Friendship.
there's no food at this bar, but i'm pretty sure vodka is made of wheat so i'm basically drinking bread.
I'm sitting in the corner at the bar with a poolstick in case a brawl breaks out. Some crazy shit is going down and I'm trying to show my feathers like a horny peacock.
You are not about to raise that baby deer, you can BARELY raise yourself... Return it to it's mom now.
Bren left me with a lovely parting gift. Newfouund alcoholism. I'm on the kitchen floor, hugging a bottle of vodka. It's my only friend now.
She interrupted us having sex in the tent by threatening to kill us if we "got cum on the lasanga."
You used the best tools you had at your disposal.
Slutty, slutty tools.
It doesn't matter how many times you look in your purse, Your keys are not going to be there. Maybe you left them at the bar.
Maybe they fell out of my pocket last night when I rolled down the hill.
Drunk me wrote a bucket list last night. #4 is "hate fuck a childhood enemy". Can we make this happen?
Apparently I still called the officer "sir" despite the fact I was at a .21 BAC. Southern girls are raised right
If I can ever get control of my legs I will be home. Thanks... and again sorry about your bed.
I told her I was going to masterbate myself into a coma... We have another date on Thursday.
I'm thankful I didn't get drunk and shit my pants this year. 🦃
YOU ATE THE FUCKING GOLDFISH!?
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