My whole home page is your drunken face booking, congrats.
Not sure what happened last night, but there are four mini bikes outside and some guy is wearing my shirt passed out in the breakfast nook. Won't be telling the grand kids about this one.
I'm torn. Shes everything I ever wanted, but I just cant get past the story about having drunken sex with her dog in high school.
Here's an idea...how about I take shots by myself and drunk dial you around noon?
hes either a crazy bad problem or a crazy good orgasm. I just can't decide which one.
This body was not built to go to the gym. It was built to chain smoke cigarettes and shoot whiskey
It's probably because the lack of alcohol in your stomach. Alcohol kills bacteria. I am a doctor. Trust me
Is there a special protocol when the stripper has a Boba Fett tattoo?
I can smell the sangria seeping out of my pores
And the cops are back. At least my pants are on this time
If you can't seal the deal with her, I will. And you know I'll be successful. So there's your incentive
Is this really the life I've chosen for myself?
I've officially slept through a hurricane, a tornado and had sex during an earthquake. I'm surviving.
At one point in the night, as we were running from the cops, I clearly remember you yelling "little gnomes are tickling the insides of my body!" ...that high.
just had an acid flashback in my therapist's office. i am a walking stereotype
Randomize
