We each get one free throw up cleaning, no questions asked.
He just washed his hands with scrubbing bubbles yelling "They work hard so I don't have to!"
I feel like butter and tequila would be excellent combination. Right now. Please do this in my name.
I decided staying home, watching porn and masterbating was a much better choice than the gym. And I was right.
Dude, I passed out on the side walk, lost my phone and shirt, and walked 12 miles home after I disappeared from the club
I though he and I knew each other well enough that we could go to my hotel room to do a bunch of cocaine together without their being any homoerotic implications, but NOOOOOOOOO!
I'm so proud of us for not dying.
Don't let me publish my memoir unless "hurt my ankle drunk irish dancing" is at least the title of a chapter because that is really the whole story of my life.
I mean, I bought pot and shampoo before I ran out. I think I can adult.
I was having a serious heart-to-heart, and then the weed gummy kicked in.
We found him sitting in the back of the club crying into a strippers lap. She told us he missed his pet frog and to come back later.
Whatever, ill dance on the bar at applebees, don't try and act like you're above it.
He nailed that bed down really well so it won't break again. All I could think while he was nailing it was "challenge accepted".
Setting myself up for trouble? Yes. But getting laid is a lot more important at this time.
I'm sitting in the hospital with him while he's still half drunk with a busted leg because he thought he could do parkour off a rock
Randomize
