you don't remember? you called me at 330 crying because you were in the middle of having sex with corey and forgot his name. all you kept saying was i'm a drunk bitch.
swear to god some girl just crawled out of the washing machine. this is intense.
I literally sat down and peed with my underwear still on. How does that happen?
I don't know why girls would even talk to someone as drunk as I was.
Like... Chilling at home with a movie, hang out? Or have sexual intercourse in the backseat if his car, hang out?
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
Circumcision scars are like fingerprints. I think I'm on to something man.
Just in case you were wondering I sent you a text at 4:37 in the morning because I woke up on the side of the highway at that time
Kid sitting next to me smells like he slept in a dutch oven full of farts. Going to die.
What shitty, shitty thing could you possibly tell me that doesnt top the fact that i got hammered and showed everyone i could shit while running
he stopped talking to me, quit his job, moved out of the province and then told me it was "no big" when I called him apologizing...
you guys have a strange definition of the word fun. I would have said dangerous, terrifying, or life-threatening. of course, bowling can now be described the same way.
You can fuck right off with that, "If the earthquake isnt bigger than 5.0, we native Californians dont get out of bed." I am from Chicago. I can handle freak flash floods, polar vortexes and tornados. But my bed violently shaking at 6:30 in the morning is cause for some understandable concern.
I did a kegel this morning to determine if I had been penetrated during last night's blackout. Nope.
Appearently I went across the hall last night demanding to ride my neighbors moose... How much did I drink?
Randomize
