Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
I threw up so much beer last night that my puke had a nice head on it.
It was so good the neighbors even had a cigarette.
I just ditched my friends to hang out with the chilis restaurant crew...one of these girls better have daddy issues
He rode my dog to the bathroom and wouldn't stop laughing once he got in. It was scary.
Okay now that I've been wanting to eat these hot cheetos in the bathroom, I know it's time I need to stop smoking and go to sleep.
The video of him doing the dougie made me telling him I didn't want a relationship, just his virginity so much easier.
My new hangover cure is going for a haircut, just so the stylists give me a scalp massage during the shampoo.
That certainly explains the nine times your hair has looked different just this last month alone.
I learn from experience and I experienced what it would be like to completely lose my mind and then wake up with a stab wound.
I'm having salsa con queso and a leftover half-drank/flat red bull for breakfast. Nothing you propose doing today would be a downgrade.
Why did I ever allow that penis to enter my sacred temple?
I wanted to write an apology letter to my vagina after that.
Just as an add on, don't expect me to wear matching bra and underwear. If I do, I'm probably drunk and it's your fucking birthday. Have a great night.
You were laying next to me in bed at 4:30 a.m. I asked if you were drunk and you said you weren't drunk you were buzzed like a bumblebee. Then kept rambling on about having to call out of work.
Every dick I’ve had or wanted in the last year is married. It’s like I became a professional home wrecker after I graduated.
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