He threw up over the balcony and blamed it on an invisible garden gnome.
some crying dude holding an empty fifth of burnetts just showed up at our door and asked 'do i live here?'
went from writing my paper to watching obamas speech to crushing beers and singing springsteen in a crowd of 100 within 20 minutes. I love this country
it was good sex until i became a rubber doll and he became a jack hammer, so i guess overall it was good
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wait no I wore my bra home that morning. I stole someone's bra last night?
YOU LET ME GO HOME WITH CREEPY RON JEREMY?!?
...and?
I hate when you're right.
I literally just biked home like I was on the last leg about to win the tour du France. Fuck diarrhea
I'm getting offered Candy Crush lives in return for sex. Like wtf.
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
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I'm way too hungover for life right now
I think he has some internal "man stuff" that keeps getting in the way.
Like alcoholism and general douchbagary.
Well, personally I like to keep my blackmail in well organised folders.
Well, I can't remember Thursday and my left ass cheek hurts like hell, I'm guessing Mike's bachelor party was a success.
I offered to trade my cat for a bottle of tequila as long as it had a handle on it and realized I had a problem
Replacing my paralegal is easy. Replacing my favorite office fuck toy is a totally different story. Damn him for wanting to better himself instead of being my manwhore
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