You know the guy who poops at a party and then leaves and you go in, do your business, and come out and there are girls outside that think you pooped and no one talks to you? I'm the guy who poops before you go in, because I'm in a relationship and I hate you.
That's what happens when you let Keystone Light make your decisions.
two words: eviction party
Eating doritas dunked in queso con salas. Salllas. Salska. Salsa. Got it. Shhiitt. Salsa con queso. That's better. I'm hot pink socks.
I automatically know you're drunk now as soon as you start yelling in spanish
The bouncer yelled at him for poking at the guy selling roses, I think it's time to leave.
Long story short, the rash from your last birthday party told me not to go to this one.
It took all the strength I had tto sit at my desk and not tear off my business attire and run screaming from adulthood and flourescent lights.
In the pie chart of my life, she is a huge part of why I drink.
There is a BIG difference between doing coke and getting peed on and getting peed on FOR coke
I am not getting you a goat.
Fair enough. I am not going out with you. The goat was not negotiable.
Are you proud of yourself?
ask me again when I'm drunk. Then fuck off.
How is it possible for someone who gets so many dick picks sent to her, to be experiencing such a complete and utter lack of dick IRL.
He can't say no, it's my spiritual goddamn quest.
I was sprawled on his bed and heard him and a girl walk in the apartment. I jumped out the window and am walking down main street wrapped in an american flag blanket. Can you pick me up?
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