Thank God for loud music. There is a circus in my butt right now.
Ive either hit rock bottom or become my own hero.
I have way too much money in my bra to be responsible.
You have to understand, this is the first time I'm looking at a whopper sober.
He;s fine. He just kept saying "hurricane Gordon is coming to shore" and flexed his muscles a lot.
My gynecologist inadvertently complimented your penis.
i can't understand anything he's saying. But he spells alcohol right everytime so i deciphered it.
I dunno. Last time I went there I had got sexually propositioned by a Belgian prince.
I was barred out and drunk as fuck locked out at 3am in my Indian costume. It was literally freezing outside. I laid down on the concrete and made a bonfire with dry leaves. Then proceeded to ask.the.bonfire nicely to "please dont go out". Drunk me went strait up survival mode.
I'm gonna give him birthday punches. On the dick. With my mouth.
I need to get a job that holds me accountable for something. Otherwise I wake upon Monday wondering when the booze store opens and if I still have a boyfriend.
He bought the 12 pack of condoms. I take that as a sign of serious commitment.
Yeah because the only thing stopping you from fucking Emma Watson is you not being a Gryffindor
And one groomsman rode a suitcase cart like a skateboard until he crashed and took out a piece of sheet rock. Later he pulled out his nuts.
avocado toast wont fix the fact you did a bunch of blow you fucking hipster
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