My place. Tomorrow Night. Bring your liver, and something for it to do.
Since you didn't call me back last night, I can only assume that in 9 months you're going to have a child that I'm going to refer to as, "Daddy's little mistake in Miami."
I least I know I can't get pregnant because it's on my hair
I've replaced the bottom of the food pyramid with alcohol.
Theres a baby at this concert double fisting pacifiers. shes gunna do great in college.
Apparently I kept telling the bartender that I was going to set the Guinness World Record.
You can't see him, he's in front of the dildo, but Amelia Earhart is blocking your view.
OHMYGOD did I try to use pinesol as a mixer?
Within 24 hours, I went to a feminist documentary screening with two state reps and you hate fucked a rent-a-cop on the helipad of your hospital. Somewhere our lives went in different directions.
I still make more money.
Every time I walk onto campus my Saint Patrick's day scar starts to throb. I'm like a drunken accident prone Harry Potter
I'm running on jager fumes right now. It's like I put diesel in a prius and said fuck it.
That's always how I imagine things at your apartment...
Good, I'm glad you don't have some weird, skewed, clothed version of reality over here.
I just found out two girls I dated met each other, bonded over how much they hate me, started dating and are gonna get married soon.
We share an apartment, weed and genitals. It's called being practical not in love.
Idk why more people don't drink at work ... i mean, yeah, the cash might be off tonight, but my customer service is fucking phenomenal right now
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