The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
I need to keep friends like you around just in case hell grades on a curve.
if i'm ever face-down on the ground puking again, promise me you won't try to braid my hair?
This place smells like bottom shelf liquor and broken dreams
There are 27 signatures on my ass. What the hell happened last night?
Every time someone made a cup you congratulated them by letting them sign your ass.
"I'm in the bathroom. Only place I can sit and relax without that girl trying to give me a lap dance."
He simply fell in the fire, rolled out and continued to finish his bottle of vodka. Everyone else instantly sobered up just watching it.
I could probably be laying here naked and he'd still be more interested in this thunderstorm
I am having the most awesome nonsexual conversation about my vagina right now
I heard drunk is the new sober. I heard me say that. To a cop. Can you come get me??
I feel like I got hit by a truck. And I vaguely remember getting into an argument with a passive aggressive Ron Burgundy in a onesie- grown man, not a baby- about the pronunciation of New Orleans
I'm not a whore anymore. I gave up 90% of my women for you. I'm a 4-5 woman kind of guy now.
I just don't know how to say "I want to have sex you with before you graduate" in a classy way
Also: I hate her so much. She's out at hooters, making spelling errors, while I'm literally sitting at a clinic getting std tested. Which of us won the morality award in this break up.
She’s 47 and wants me to fuck her on her mom’s hospital bed
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