You skyped me last night to show me the girl passed out on your bed.
As one final fuck you to the courthouse i'm paying the rest of this ticket with sacajawea coins.
In reality u ask do u have beer at your house but what your really saying is will there be cock in my mouth
Oh we will ALWAYS be together. Or I'll have to delete my Facebook altogether. I've drunkenly boobie trapped photos of us into every album. There's no way I'd ever have the patience to go through that deletion process.
It's like getting ready for my vaginas own execution
I love her to death but its like you have to do 5 lines of coke to be on her level.
I'm having a really difficult time dealing with the fact that my dog now shares a name with Snooki's crotch-spawn.
I'm pretty sure I have enough material at this point to start a blog called Guys I've Banged in Pictures together. Why does this keep happening to me!
He challenged me to a drink off, I couldn't just say no. It was a matter of pride really.
And as he was cursing your name from the bathroom you were ordering yourself another drink on his tab. The poor bastard had no clue you were a pro drunk
Well I can't go home with anyone tonight bc I stuffed my bra
You screamed at oncoming traffic , "five dollars to punch this guy in taint!".
I just used my sisters cheerleading plaque and a children's book to crush up painkillers to snort. Happy Friday
passed out on bart again and decide to bike home. biked thru a goat farm of angry goats, biked on the freeway, got stopped by the cops, and sat shotgun in the squad car while the officer driving got a video on his iphone of his partner riding my bike on the freeway.
As you were leaving you yelled at the owners that the stairs weren't suitable for "intoxacapated" people and promptly fell down them.
So I WAS right.
I keep worrying she's gonna have a repeat of the time the ceiling fan was talking in Chinese
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