so this guy on craigslist is offering a case of beer to shave his back. i think i'm gonna take him up on it.
I hate nights where "I found my underwear" can be considered a victory.
Hung over does not do it justice. I am hung like a horse over. I am hungover and over and over. I am hung, drawn and quartered fucking over. They just told me I can't keep my sunglasses on in the office. Fuck drinking with you people.
We just had a sexually tense moment where we both chose the trough the pee. I love gay clubs.
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Someone is in my phone as "fireball girl" and keeps texting me. How do I go about finding out who it is?
Sign she's a keeper: "I would rather be late to brunch than waste a perfectly good boner."
She thinks Jesus was an astronaut.
She needs more friends. Or a second therapist.
I know, it's just the worst. Also, security almost took the burrito I brought for lunch. I thought I was going to have to pull a Liz Lemon and eat the whole thing before I could go through.
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I mean, I already put pants on today. We're already halfway there
Omg. I meet up with you guys with bodily fluids on my chin ONE time and suddenly I'm a whore.
I went looking for them and I pulled my pants down and peed on the lawn. I found my phone in the same spot in the morning.
i love discovering the tokens of our drunkenness from the night before. it's like easter egg hunting. today: smashed pizza rolls in the sink.
Dude I left his house at 5:30 a.m. after you peed on his front door and then tried to fight me for my blanket. Don't even do that at my house or I will end you.
hahahahaha. Worst. Text. Ever.
We left an ass print on the conference room table, but I don’t think anyone caught on
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