I cut holes in my blanket and put my arms through it. It's the sleeveless "Bro Edition" Snuggie.
Grandma was not a fan of the beer-can ornaments. Not "traditional".
your tears are not going to buy me drinks...
She was drinking straight whiskey out of her peacock shaped vase again.
I miss vodka workout Fridays
I'm gonna have to fantasize about her dying just to get off.
ill be fine wheb you get back. I'm gunna do real world things like washing the dishes. having to perform serious tasks brings you down.
I'm okay with corrupting his young mind.
Ew! He's just a child!
AND I'M GONNA SHOW HIM HOW TO MAKE ONE.
They're not that bad of drunks, they come back to the vehicle with more stuff than they went in with, so its a profitable venture.
No, absolutely not. If you see that cunt, throw confetti or eggs at her.
That's a pretty extreme jump from confetti to eggs
I knew you were blacked out when you started refusing beer.
You burned the hair off your arms. Again.
It grows back stronger each time.
Get the fuck back here. Your brother taped bottle rockets to the front of his scooter and is bombing around screaming, "Rest in peace, Goose!"
I mean, I already saw his dick in person and wasn't impressed so why is he sending me a picture of it, anyway? I hate re-runs!
So I figured it out. There's two types of shitters. Moaners and grunters. And on occasion there's a third. It's the ill fabled grunt moaner.
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