I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
Last night you tried to pee on my bed...in the hallway...your room...and the showers. When I finally got you on the toilet you passed out.
Do you need a place to sleep? Cause I fucked in the guestroom a few weeks ago and never washed the sheets. But if you don't care neither do I.
She gives me Chlamydia and somehow I'm still the asshole
She just fell in the river. Meet us downstream with the bottle.
There's a treasure map on your stomach. Treasure may or may not be the clothes you lost...enjoy
Do you think they make a "sorry in my drunken debauchery I dropped a pumpkin off the balcony and you happened to be standing right there/get well soon" card?
I'm all about sex. But even I know there will be a time to retire my junk. And that will be my 40th birthday, or whenever I'm hideous
Hey remember that night when you sang Fergie to me? I think that's the exact moment in time when the thought "I could be faithful to this man" came into serious consideration.
Get up, biotch, before I come traipsing in there to rip apart whatever god-forsaken spoon you have going on between the two of you and your dog.
oh god I've lost the ability to distinguish between 'star trek' and 'the future'
I just realized my new apartment is at the corner of Patrick Henry and Mary Jane.
Give me weed or give me death?
We had sex with a sexual harassment video playing in the background before his gf got there. I've hit a new low
He's hot, clean, can actually cook, and best of all isn't a narcissistic prick. I found a unicorn.
Ride that fucker.
I'm fine. Heading home now...crying. Michael Bolton totally understands me!
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