i woke up this morning in my bathroom,naked, with my boxers around my face and puke and shit on the floor and wondering why i didn't have a toenail on my one big toe.
compared to you, a hobo is quite responsible.
I think i'm just gonna start shot-gunning everything that comes in can form.
"Don't get as drunk as I was on my birthday" has been upgraded from a goal for Friday night to a goal for my life in general.
6 margaritas later and free shots of tequila, i woke up with a fat lip and they said i blew my nose in a slice of bread
do you think she knows her nickname is brickface?
I just blurted out "it's pretty tight isn't it"
She is the Michael Jordan of blowjobs. Unfortunately, her baby sister is the Michael Jordan of baseball of blowjobs. It does not run in the family.
There is absolutely a 0% chance my hips will make it out of this twerking business fully functional
The difference in our lives is summed up perfectly in that you woke up next to a 6'4" guy with an accent and I woke up next to an unwrapped piece of string cheese.
Let's FaceTime each other while we shotgun beers
On the other hand, this could be a new level of shame for me.
What happened last night and why am I partially covered in queso?
We were trying to organize all the customers to hold a window pickle race. as of 10:37 pm last night we are no longer allowed in our McDonalds.
He pulled out the guitar, sat in tub, and took requests while she puked her brains out in the toilet. I think he loves her.
At a bar in the city and the whole place starting singing “Happy Birthday” to someone. Everyone but me. The person next to me leaned over and said, “Why didn’t you sing along?!?” I responded, “I don’t know him. I don’t give a shit if he has a happy birthday.”
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