I just had someone call me out on a walk of shame via megaphone
This is a drunk text message. I am so glad that we are friends. Tomorrow we will eat sandwiches in miniature. We both love dogs. Flower.
You woke up in the middle of the night and told me we won the sweepstakes, the penis sweepstakes.
You sir are most definitely in. Better get your penis an umbrella as that bad boy is gonna get soakkkkkkeddddd.
Close. The correct answer is shitting in a public toilet. We also would have accepted the pit of despair.
To my wonderful winter break booty calls: thank you for making this holiday season enjoyable. I look forward to seeing you boys again this summer.
I should start printing out disclaimer handouts and passing them out to people saying, "I can not be held responsible for anything I say or do this evening."
I don't think you understand. I woke up under the car. At 3 am. In the club parking lot.
Make sure you plan your visit for October. That's ACL festival, it's like every Bro in the country converges on Austin. My vagina wants to go hunting.
...and that's why girls with IBS don't paint their nails
We fucked to Bonnie Tyler in my car. He's the one.
Hey, don't blame me for the shitty evening; I wasn't the one who promised hookers, Dos Equis and foster kittens. Keith was.
Rolled over in bed this morning and found Nutella and wet naps. Why can't it ever be a fire fighter, or Jude Law.
Russell is lonely. He needs a companion.
You're lucky you have a monster cock or most people may just laugh at your penis' nickname.
Can I make sure all my sluttiness goes to you when I die? You're the only person I know who'll make use of it
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