My "High Times" magazine came in today, as well as my girlfriend's new sex toys. We're calling in sick today.
You were so drunk that you were trying to take pictures of a MILF at the park so you could send them to Adam, but you didn't want to "seem creepy," so you used taking pictures of her son as a cover. Needless to say, cops were called.
he changed my name in his contacts to "rick", so his mom wouldn't know he was texting me
you kept making us tell you how cute you looked in your new outfit, even after you threw up all over it
I'm sober enough to realize she looks like a man, but drunk enough to do it anyways
They poked me and kept screaming "LAUGH DOUGH BOY" it's like 3rd grade all over again.
Became best friends with the hotdog stand creeper outside the bar. Cried and told him my feet hurt too much to walk home then begged him to hire me.
I'm not trying to alarm you guys, but I think I just swallowed a ketchup packet.
We are a team. I lure them in with my tits, feed them enough alcohol to consider homosexuality, and hand them off to you.
You're the best wingman ever.
Just cried to my husband about how much I'm going to miss my boyfriend... Maybe marriage is going to work for me after all
Those nachos came to me in a dream
Ugh, I should just give up, and fuck him in a parking lot, and shave my head and walk naked through the streets of King's Landing.
i opened the door and you were passed out on my doorstep wearing ugly shorts and cuddling a pinnapple, i dont know what happened to you.
How is it that I can make it to my 8am Friday morning still drunk after passing out the night before...but not to my 9am on Tuesday that I went to bed early for? Irony or karma?
Boys winking, cowboys tipping their hats, old people looking disappointed.... ah, I had forgotten the unholy powers of exposed cleavage!
You are my hero.
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