i asked a few people if they wanted to make pancakes with me but no one would. thats why i'm drunk by myself right now
Clearly, I'm already going to hell, so there's no point in trying anymore.
The bouncer said he wanted to but BBQ sauce on my legs. That Mystic tan has already paid for itself.
I don't think he grasps the fact that I would much rather he finish inside me than on my $400 Anthropolgie bedspread
the only way to explain how i feel is someone rolled me down a big fucking hill and then a dog came a took a huge ruthless shit in my mouth at the bottom
nothing says "you're fucked" like watching a movie with the family and a handle of vodka comes crashing down from your hiding spot in the ceiling tiles.
You kept whispering "Party Dave" every time someone would start talking.
Showed up physical therapy hammered. The therapist just says this isnt part of the program.
I mean, the sex was awesome last weekend, but I didn't even imagine I'd reached ovarian rupture status.
I was afraid someone would drug test my pants so you set them on fire.
All i remember his him yelling yahtzee while pouring beer down her shirt .
I'm just that drunk tells people I love them or wants to set them on fire. Accept that.
So besides your brother walking in on you shaving and singing "I'm gonna get asssss" how was your night
Drank your wedding present. Sorry
Through a complicated series of events, I wound up in the desert with a blue chick from comic-con. we lost peter. if you're alive, please come get us.
Randomize
