How many nights a week you wake up with sticky boxers cause you were dreaming of Clay Aiken? Your wife mad?
apparently my drunken alterego is a lazyeyed bisexual.
Now he's talking about how he's writing in a journal because he doesn't remember "his thought patterns when he was in elementary and that's distressing". I'm walking home. Fuck this.
We're too lazy to do dishes, so we're making sangria in a flower vase.
Its like "fucckkkkk yooouuuuuu" is echoing up my esophagus
tequila?
yep
I just found a list in your handwriting titled "Places I've Peed." The National Mall and 'under the second bridge after the bend in the road' are two of the tamer entries. I tip my hat.
It sounds like drunken magic sprinkled w narcotics
Fuck you asshole. You cost me cheerleader pussy.
You're dick is like the main character. It needs its own picture.
If you can't drink with the big boys, give up your beer and go back to the playpen
HOW DO YOU FORGET TO FINISH WINE
Apparently I drunkenly agreed to help the homeless. For once, I'm not disappointed in drunk me. Four for you, drunk self. You go, drunk self!
Can you send me the picture you took of me smoking a joint with the cat make-up on?
I just want him to go down on me while I eat a burger. Is that too much to ask?
Cops swarmed my car last night in the walmart parking lot cause of the paper plate
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