I walked into cold stone and the guy started preparing a supersized birthday cake remix for "Mrs. Munchies"
Great. I get laid, Leslie Nielsen dies. I can't have have sex anymore, the film community can't take another loss like this.
Only way we know if he truly fits in is if we spill straight vodka on the floor and his first instinctnis to lick it up. Otherwise, gameover.
It's Christmas week. I wouldn't know what to do if i wasn't hung over.
No He hasn't done that since the time he came in his own eye
Last night: Repeatedly yelled about how the fishbowl tasted like blue, stole a stranger's hat, hugged the DJ for playing my request, made out with my roommate, and abandoned the guy I dragged to the club in the first place
This morning: Hat doesn't fit, hangover headache is blue, and I can't move without getting lightheaded
Listen when they tell you not to drink after giving blood
She left me naked in my bed and without my phone I had her give me her phone number on the calculator on my laptop. It might be fake.
Good thing I left work early to shave my balls because traffic sucked ass, which I was written up for and my reason on the write was "to close on time, have to shave balls for date tonight". Oh yea, that was a bold statement right there
Super stoned right now. And I stared at my exit, thought to myself "hey self. That is your exit" and I kept driving right past it.
$1 drinks and Playboy theme. I am never leaving this place
You attempted what you called the "Long Island Heist", in which you shoved a half glass of Long Island down your pants and asked me to help you sneak it out. That drunk.
He suffocated between her tits, but she didn't notice because he still came.
You set fire to his cat.
In my defense, I did not think it would be in the trash bag.
Twas still the Saturday before Christmas \nAnd it’s still fucking snowing\nAnd Steve wished he slowed down \nOn all the fucking drinking
she crawled a good forty meters just to whisper in my ear... "dildon't"
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