1:12am: That's just how i roll, and this dress she is wearing is dirty and needs to get pulled over her head.
i'm stoned. there's a jazz trio playing outside across the street...scared that mike myers will appear & start yelling 'woman...WHOA MAN. WHOOOA MAN.' i'm snapping my fingers.
You were so drunk that some guy dressed as Harry Potter pointed his wand at you and screamed "Accio SHITSHOW"
I was cleaning up my drunken mess and I found my ID in a cereal box
hes so high that he's convinced hes a duck. hes squating in the bathtub quacking. that was NOT JUST pot.
she is using a fork to eat popcorn and refuses to drink gatorade out of anything but a margarita glass... did i mention the popcorn is on a plate?
Police were closing down the bar due to gunfight and I was crying because they wouldn't let me finish putting temporary shamrock tats on my boobs
He couldn't stand on his own, but he managed to somehow to get to the beer garden and get served 3 more. I'm proud to call him my cousin.
Sent him a picture of my pregnant boobs from last year, think he'll notice the difference?
For our final psych experiment, we're conditioning Tim to hump the nearest inanimate object and/or person every time he hears a Ke$ha song
The fact that it was "anything but a cup" now explains the cowboy boots and fishbowl aftermath at the apartment.
He sent me a pic stitch collage of all the tit pics I had sexted him this month. It was so sweet!
You are hereby uninvited from future Turnt Tuesdays until further notice.
I don't know what you're doing this morning, but obtaining Plan B is my number-one priority.
Typical Sunday morning text...are you alive?
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