Hey sorry for feelin' up your date. Sadly, this is a mass txt.
I just tried to put my feet in my slippers and found cans of beer in them. Christmas in fucking july.
I'm seriously so bored I'm seeing how many rooms I can masturbate in before I get caught.
Four. Poor grandma...
No driving. The car is spinning. I am praying for mcdonalds.
The good news is the house is clean, the bad news is someone redecorated the bonus room by spray painting "free willy" on the wall in honor of the girl who passed out in there last night.
Good news. Hiccups are gone. Bad news. I had to set the bathroom rug on fire to get rid of them. Don't come home until the fire truck leaves.
We can just keep having sex until one of us finds someone we actually like
i refuse to be around anyone not wearing a sombrero...its cinco de mayo
So the day after the 4th I'm sitting here drinking Molson and watching NHL free agent frenzy. From patriotic American to drunken Canadian in 24 hours flat. Booyah.
Decided I'm going to wear a shirt that says "I'm sorry" whenever we go back to that fraternity
So here's my pathetic thought of the day: what does it smell like to be sober?
He made a toga out of my hot pink bed sheets and cracked an egg on his head. Then he proceeded to alphabetize our DVD collection, which was impressive because I'm 99% sure he couldn't have done that sober.
I have weed and a speedo - I don't need anything else.
I dunno I mean I feel like I owe everyone an apology except the two people I punched in the face
a day off where I don’t get laid would be worthless
Randomize
