i feel like my life has become an afroman song and idk whether i should be sad about that or not
You're my spirit guide. This has to do with oatmeal cream pies.
I sorta feel bad for the actual person in my fake id that got a drunk in public charge.
On an unrelated side note: I shall now attempt to crawl to the bathroom. Where I will lay motionless on the cold ceramic bathtub with hot water pouring over my shivering body as I desperately try not to vomit. Good day.
They have chocolate covered tequila candy at work. This is not a drill. May be drunk by noon.
I'm pretty sure that if I didn't have a gerbil with a shotgun in my uterus I would think i was knocked up cuz all I want is hot sauce
I can't tell if I'm hungover or if my cat just knocked the lamp on my face
I feel like passing out with my foot on your face has bonded us at a very fundamental level.
My doctor said I can only have one drink at a time, ever, from now on. My life has officially started its decline.
The hotel had a helipad. Of course we had sex on it.
He came home at 2 AM on roller skates with his hair dyed pink while singing "Sweet Transvestite" and throwing glitter on all of us and everything we own. We had to call a cleaning guy.
Thinking about licking your asshole. And hugs and stuff too I guess.
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
Ive seen a birth plenty of times, pretty awesome like a bear trying to climb out of a volkswagon.
I got so pissed i stormed off and threw his burrito on his windshield
Randomize
