Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
Redeem this text for a blowjob
She forced me to throw up so it would "rejuvenate" me. It worked and then we took six more shots and did a keg stand. You know what I call that? Friendship.
my mothers day present is going to be not puking at the table during brunch
He couldn't say anything coherently but shot off a perfectly timed "that's what she said" when michelle said he'd have to ride in the trunk because she didn't have enough room up front.
I definitely managed to work the word "aforementioned" into the conversation.. At least I'm an intelligent sexter.
My head. My head is the problem. Also alcoholism.
I tripped over a vacuum cleaner and fell into a beer pyramid
And I'm still awake, and you left me. Like the guy on Jurassic Park, that jumped out of the car expecting me to save myself while there is a man eating T-rex ready to tear my ass apart except theres a mathematician and paleontologist there to save me because they are bad asses.
Sometimes I just want to serenade his penis with cheesy 80s songs.
I just drove my booty call to his booty call, if that isn't spreading the love, I don't know what is.
Fall is here I will miss walking downtown in nothing but paint and pasties
He went in for a kiss so I shook his hand instead.
Bro, that'd be the third dick I've taken down in the office.
QUIT STEALING MY PHONE AND SEXTING MY MOM!!!!
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