yeah well you didnt even puke from the alcohol. we cut you off and went to huck finn's and told you that the "irish cream" coffee creamers had baileys in it, so you shot down like eight of them and puked all over the floor. it was great. we cheered you on and everything
we sat in the hammock and pretended we were skydiving for three hours. jack actually started crying when i convinced him his chute didnt open.
college drinking is stealing all my money, thank god planned parenthood is somewhat free
I forgot how hot balto sounded
you made your own hammock out of a towel and duct tape.
If she asks the cat was vomiting before I fed it fried calamari
I was fine until "Under Pressure" came on the radio. It's like God wanted me to shit my pants on the drive home.
When's a good time to tell your boyfriend you've slept with his ex girlfriend?
I was so high I told him we should rub faces and pretend to be wombats. He was surprisingly enthusiastic about it.
It isn't possible and the very mindfuck of that concept gives me a lady boner.
Then that is decided. Fuck away my little bunny rabbit.
Two really nice girls helped clean the taco out of my hair.
I don't think I have face palmed that many times in such a short period. And I've worked tech support.
I went to bed early to get up and have a cup of coffee and watch a Sunday sunrise; and again you come home with no shirt and more stamps than my passport. Get the fuck up now, you are taking an Uber to waffle house. The order is in you name.
Do you ever look at your life and go "i'm too sober for this bullshit"?
Every day of my life.
Randomize
