Regardless of the degree, it's probably not good to relate so closely to the Steve-O documentary.
moral of the story: I'm going to stab everyone
A relator touring our house this week saw the picture in our bathroom of steven passed out, yellow faced, with BALLS on his forehead, and had to ask "if that kid was alive or dead".
I introduced him to the male G-Spot. Don't ever tell me I'm not experienced.
We made a late night liquor run, made margaritas and bloody marys and then retreated to opposite sides of the house to drink them. Alone.
You guys make me sad
You misspelled jealous there
all I know is he gave me a Cialis and tried to take me home.
I owe you 20 bucks. My blood work did show liver damage.
I thought I walked in on an orgy of smurfs. Man I love shrooms
I really appreciate you zipping up my pants at the bar. You didn't even ruin my Bermuda triangle.
It's one of those nights that you wish to god someone would booty call you, and then realize you'll just be stuck here with your poptart...
Friendly reminder that on the walk home you tripped but instead of falling to the sidewalk, you tried to save it and ended up headbutting my ex-boyfriend in the balls. ILU.
I just did the walk of shame..with a blanket and a cup that says i will out drink all you bitches. This was not how i pictured 25.
He was trying to talk to me about standards while he had a french fry box on his hand like a glove and was using it to flatten his cheeseburger.
like, there should be nothing wrong with me wanting to watch you put on a bikini and roll around in a kiddie pool of jello
the fact that I can still put my shoes on is a testament to the fact that I can outdrink these bros
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