This house was built for laser tag.
I think misery doesn't even think of me as company anymore. I'm an unofficial roommate.
Im about to shotgun a beer using my mother's knitting needles. home sweet home.
Barack Obama mentioned plan B and suddenly this address seems a lot more personal
I wanna throw up and cum in that order
My contribution to the dinner party was a bottle of vodka and a bag of uncooked potatoes. I felt like a Russian serf.
I'm about one sudden movement away from being able to cross "throw up in a fortune 100 company's bathroom" off my bucket list.
Well, if it gives you any indication, when I got there, there was already some dude passed out naked in the treehouse.
UPDATE: IM NOT A TEEN MOM LETS GO PARTY
Getting robbed by hookers is def a right of passage in a mans life
I told my therapist about the other night and he actually whistled and said "wow that is not good."
he couldn't get a boner so he asked me to sing you shook me all night long to his penis. I think it was weirder that it actually worked
I gotta stop fucking the bouncers. We are running out of bars to go to.
how does that bad decision feel?
I don't know whether to cheer for the free bourbon, or cry from the screaming children.
Randomize
