So, I woke up to an empty bottle of scotch and a dead car. The last thing I remember are the strippers being mad at me. Awesome night.
Feels good to be wearing underwear again though...
Having sex with her was like reading the Wall Street Journal.
So someone hacked my email and facebook and posted a boob pic I took a few years ago as my profile picture. I feel like an MTV commercial.
I hate drunken dyslexia, i thought she said "someone to do" not "something to do" long story short i now have a restraining order.
Just an fyi, teatherball while wasted might be the hardest sport ever.
she just built a cabin out of hotdogs and cooked it in the microwave.
now she is shaking the plate and mumbling "this is what california must feel like"
Well if my looks don't work with her I'll eat the 50 nuggets to impress her fat roommate.
I apologize for excluding you. On a better note: the stripper that made out with my wife friend requested me on facebook
Nahh. Maybe not even a handful. It's more like a heaping teaspoon worth of dick.
I am in the bathroom at work, pooing while eating pretzels. Hungover Fridays are in full effect
i snuck out to taco bell in my hospital gown earlier
When we missed a fist bump and simultaneously did the Rocket Power handshake I knew I was going to blow him.
so, in conclusion, I think his gf found out about the booty pics
Hillary said in her victory speech "We're gonna come together". I've got a lib-boner.
so apparantly i made out with 24 santas last night...and an elf...and a stoner
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