the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
Ahhh... Adderall running out my nose in the shower really brings back memories.
it wasn't sex, it was awkward naked time.
he drunkenly pissed himself on the deck, in the bathroom, and on my couch within the span of an hour
its like an avodart commercial...maybe he has a growing problem
i also performed surgery on a chicken burrito from what i can tell from my scissors
I lost track of him after he threw the handful of pennies at the 2 female cops and ran into the darkness. I heard a tazer and a scream. All that is left is his flip flop. Its like hes drunken man-derella.
He explained how that handle got into our fridge. I think i'm going to stick with my original assumption that the vodka gods want me to drink more vodka.
I am drunk. Riding an elevator. You can smell the beer. Doctor on with me just smiling at me... He agrees, fuck cancer.
My addiction to golf is getting out of hand....I just caught myself swinging my dick like a putter while peeing.
May the one with the liver that just won't quit win
I had a flashback of using my sock as a napkin after we got taco bell
We ended up on their roof with our pants around our ankles shotgunning beers at one point.
Shit on my own feet while puking from my hangover. Is this what 33 is supposed to be like?
I don't need to marry the guy. I just need some filthy, shameful wish fulfillment sex and then live out the rest of my life on the bean farm.
We should write a country song: “Blacked Out on a Sunday”
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