So I've officially decided that I AM that drunken mistake that girls hate themselves for in the morning.
So, after having sex with my 4th overweight girl in 2 weeks, I've decided Charlie Sheen syndrome is ruining my life.
The two guys from next door helped him do a backflip. The ended up throwing him halfway through a ceiling tile. Don't worry, we fixed it with duct tape.
I'm starting to second guess shaving my vagina over the kitchen sink. The lighting is so much better though.
New low: just got woken up by my 9 year old cousin throwing an empty at me and telling me to get my life together.
We mailed him an 18 inch double headed dildo for his birthday. The Fedex guys certainly got a laugh out of it.
The bar tenders gave me the number for a "taxi"... It's just a dude with a van. In retrospect, pretty sketchy. Robert was cool though.
Naw. I'm tired and I'd have to shave my legs. I doubt the sex or the company would be worth it.
She's like the Oprah of therapy. AND YOU GET A STRAITJACKET. AND YOU GET A STRAITJACKET. WITH A PADDED ROOOOM
ted dressed as a cardinal led an expedition across campus. i felt like one of the 12 apostles.
I was gonna jerk off, but then I thought about that movie last night and it killed that idea. I have serious boner trauma.
Not my fault the fence refused to just break when I ran into it.
I've decided if you aren't here in fifteen minutes I'm leaving you for Mario the 75 year old Colombian bartender.
Perfect. I'll put on my party clothes and write emergency numbers on my arm
I woke up under a house in Key West
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