The producers of Marley and Me owe me about $5 million. That's the dollar amount of embarrassment compensation required for making a 24-year-old male cry publicly on an airplane while sitting in the middle seat between a gorgeous babe and a guy with a do-rag
Classy. Drunk on alcoholic "energy drink" at work before 8 am on a Tuesday. Between that and hanging out in bars with no pants on, your life is beginning to sound like a Bukowski novel.
Peach margaritas. And fuck whatever you're about to say, the girl to guy ratio is like 6:1. I need those odds
You told me when we were leaving the club if I could pin point your nipple through your padded bra you would show me if I was right.
I'm doing laundry in pjs and heels, home alone with my margarita bucket.
He sent me a pic of his Junk. He said it was a Brett Farve valentine.
um, yes. it's my birthday, of course there will be acid.
hungover subway ride filled with german tourists and a mariachi band. too early. too fuckin early
stop bragging. last time i got laid i got double pink eye, and it was so not worth it
You okay?
I walked into work with a banana and a loaf of bread
That's not a funny feeling. That's hepatitis. You got it from that bar where everything was sticky.
Just once I'd like to go out and not have to tell you to put your pants back on.
Validation I posted a good pic? The lonely fuckboys send out the booty call signal. Of course I answered the call; Gotham needs its hero.
I just described cereal to my mother as "acoustic breakfast soup".
who is this
The thing about online classes is the prof can't tell this mug is full of beer.
Randomize
