We were so bored at work tonight that we were in dry storage taking turns pouring the boxed wine we use for cooking into each others' mouths. I think I'm starting to understand the "problem" aspect of "drinking problem."
i am not above fucking your little sister on your bed
i either bought an eighteen year old girl or i'm engaged to her... i'm not quite sure
you lied vaginas dont taste like gold fish!
noo i said youre golden if her vagina tastes like fish!
took 5 apple pie shots. caution: flames. not digestable.
We're gonna have the chick that teaches kindergarteners to fold origami roll the joints.
Walking down the street trying to find the pants I had on last night
I'm going to buy her a puppy, let her fall in love with it, then kill it in front of her. Does that answer how I feel about her?
You crossed every boundary on the boundary spectrum last night. You're like the illegal immigrant of drunk actions. No more holiday drinking for you.
Whatever, consider condoms an eighteen year investment.
I could probably save all of the money I would have spent on condoms and put a kid through college.
you kept saying "i will not *breathe* regret this *breathe* in the morning *breathe* i just gotta remember *breathe* to BREATHE"
I sang him a lovely rendition of 'So Long and Thanks For All the Fish", but replaced fish with dick.
The hotel had a helipad. Of course we had sex on it.
My vagina has made plenty life decisions and I would like to point out very few if not any of them were in my favor.
Why would you get kicked out?
Well, an overweight man is currently not wearing a shirt. Or pants. And is getting in touch with his inner Chippendale. You can probably fill in the blanks.
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