My room smells like vodka and shame
I introduced my face to asphalt last night. They didn't get along.
the can pyramid on my head actually reached a decent height before I moved.
all i seem to do anymore is lay around stoned, naked and eating mangoes
I know how I'm going to make my fortune.. designing an icepack made specifically for the vagina.
Pretty sure I asked the person at the pharmacy counter in Walgreens to marry me last night. But also remember Rachel Maddow crawling through the TV screen, so my memory might be a bit compromised...
A man that refers to my vagina in third person is a man after my own heart.
So I dropped $130 while buying shots for an army ranger, got my fake taken, almost went to jail, and came out of my black out when I was talking to the cops with a stolen detour sign in my hands.
Hey, if I can't get it and you're still alive, can you get the glass out of my foot? Happy Sunday.
I am the murdurer of this scooby doo episode
I don't care what you say about him, his cock is the stuff dreams are made of.
Well I'm back. Could you fill me in on what I missed?
You don't want to know. Trust me.
Did we actually play with swords last night or did I dream that?
I told her I'd rather set my hair on fire than sleep with her again. In retrospect, that was probably too harsh. My eye is still swollen shut.
A lady played my boobs as if they were drums. It's been that kinda night.
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