You're not invited to the wedding. They don't want you starting a "who's fucked the bride the most" contest.
I don't remember what happened but judging from the contents of my pockets it had something to do with potatoes and glo in the dark condoms
Precisely. She's an awesome drinking companion; yet, not so awesome mother-in-law material.
...if you're living vicariously thought me, that was a great blow job you just gave in the B&N parking lot.
I just spent a pre-4th of july celebration riding in a raft being towed by a car through a town that I've never heard of handing out flyers for a river rafting company that I never knew existed. Good night.
I could not actually bring myself to utter the phrase "donkey cock" in front of my father. Not possible.
I'm assuming the reason my elbow is so sore has something to do with all the broken shot glasses eh?
Yep
It's definitively the wine. Every time I can drink and work I feel like I win at the game of life.
I remember him going "OH SHIT" when he saw you straddling me on the table. And it was like the best feeling ever.
So a guy died and our dates revived him with CPR. Good night?
You're not talking any sense into me. You're cheering me on to disaster.
... is that not half the reason I'm your best friend in the first place?
Stop calling me, Mom. I'm in his closet. You're gonna blow my cover and I'm about to catch this lying SOB.
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
You spent an hour sitting naked in your neighbor's Jeep Wrangler yelling in a terrible British accent about how you were "on a safari". Then you passed out on your lawn.
I've seen your dick too many times for both of us to be straight.
Randomize
