I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
As I was puking last night I told them "it's ok I'm a paramedic"
can't remember last night but the beers were $3.50, so i can count how many I had by counting my quarters
i can afford to take several trips up and down the parkway right now if I wasn't still hanging over my toilet
I want to punch and suck your dick at the same time. I don't think we have the healthiest of relationships.
He pulled his dick out during the Bourne Ultimatum, ruined it for me.
Ps. I feel like I may pee myself this weekend. Either drunkenly or out of excitement. Toss up
I can only get completely wasted and hungry two more times and then we're out of fritos.
accidentally stumbled into a construction site at 3am on the way home. The bulldozer was locked so we had to settle for rerouting traffic with all the orange cones...
When I see myself in tank tops and push up bras I seriously wonder why I'm not President.
Question #1: Why am I on my living room floor? Question #2: Where did the bloody footprints come from? Question #3: Why are there two McChickens next to the wine bottle?
I didn't think I was even that high but when we were standing in the cop car's headlights I totally forgot how to use my arms
We took vodka shots. You kept saying it was the key to your heart.
I woke up to his balls in my face, so naturally I limboed under him and headed to the bathroom. When I came out he was asleep on the floor.
I don't give a shit if you judge. This isn't about you or anyone else. This is about me and my chicken tenders.
I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, which includes naming your schlong
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