We walked through the hotel lobby in slow-mo taking huge steps because we were astronauts, and astronauts obviously can't be drunk.
Waldo just asked us for directions. Even he doesn't know where he is.
My bracket is officially just a list of teams that lost.
there are two kinds of girls in this world: my mom, and sluts.
Very hungover, bought a newspaper and found my shorts from last night in the machine.
dude. this chick is staring at me like i gave her brother herpes.
He said I was the "egg mcmuffin" of blowjobs. I'm flattered.
Your couch is like an animal shelter for stray drunks.
I doubt she'll sponsor it. You know alcohol and fireworks don't mix, right?
It's okay. We're not going to soak the fireworks in alcohol. The alcohol is for drinking.
The only math I use in every day life is figuring out how much I can spend on alcohol and still have money to pay my bills. High school lied to us.
I suppose what I've learned from this experience is that sometimes you just have to make out with a narcissistic baby daddy to make a clean getaway.
You know you're too drunk when you start calling people out for unfollowing you on social networks.
That amount of times your family has seen my boobs is getting ridiculous.
Actually just remembered that solo cup full of scotch that random guy gave me for not farting on him. That's probably why
I'm soaking her vibrators in tabasco and wasabi paste. "furious" is an understatement
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