I woke up covered in BBQ sauce. My hand had "you win" written on it. Do I celebrate?
Fiestas. Its like a classier verson of mardi gras.
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
I will never get the visual of you crying while chewing christmas lights out of my head
I feel like I have streams of color and coldness wrapping around my body.
You sir are most definitely in. Better get your penis an umbrella as that bad boy is gonna get soakkkkkkeddddd.
Remember that time I tried to pierce your nipples while high... it's like that, only with more blood... and less nipples
I have to deal with three things I do not like this weekend. Pooping in toilets that are not mine. Air mattresses. Not beating off in the shower.
You leaned over so she could squirt ketchup in your hair and then started chanting "KETCHUP NIGHT!! KETCHUP NIGHT!!!"
Congratulations on your downgrade, shes one hell of a 5
your life is not complete until you watch a gaggle of murderous clowns dance to gangnam style.
also, what is the correct term for a shit ton of clowns?
If last night was a preview of 2015, I quit.
I'm debating a nap but also debating breaking into the liquor cabinet
Like I just wanted some midlife crisis fun, not drama as big as his dick.
Like when your most normal sex dream is you being a prostitute, you know it's been one long ass dry spell.
Randomize
