As a matter of fact my bong is named Hulkamania brother
my mother and i just seriously had a convorsation about why you cant Google "Refurbished Dildos"
$1 pitcher night should be outlawed.
The water bill last month was outrageous. We have got to stop fucking for hours in the shower
I don't know what kind of soup they made, but it smells like condoms.
That little tingle vodka gives me in my esphagus is what lets me know I'm still alive.
All I am going to say is this: I woke up with lots of bruises on my knees from running around on all fours being a 'dinosaur'. Either girls night in went terribly wrong or terribly right.
Apparently my Ambien addled brain last night actually did decide to go ahead and photoshop you into various animal and human molesting scenarios. That's a hell of a thing to wake up to.
What does it say about my expectations if I'm pounding three beers the hour before a date?
I'm currently sitting at your kitchen table eating chicken nuggets that I dug out of the trash and thinking about how much I need to get laid.
I think I almost ran over some kid I went to high school with. Guilt factor: moderate to low.
I am 5' 11" of pure, uncut Fuck Off right now.
I'd call the fact I ended up in my own bed a huge success
I cannot, in good conscience, let you talk to a guy who wears Chaps and a knit beanie
Someone's gotta tell him drunk sex comes before dating
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