It's like God shit irony all over that family
he breathalyzed me before we had sex.
I'm watching the Australian Open. They need to slow the fuck down. It's hard enough to follow sober and now it's just pissing me off.
I just threw up during my phone interview for the largest PR firm in the world.
best line ever after sex today..."wow, that was a porn-star sized load"
I told them I was gay and asked them to pass the pie. I ruined pumpkin pie for grandpa.
Next guy we share better have a little more dignity than that
I got offered a handle of vodka and tomato soup to bring his dog home. He knows me all too well.
It's a gateway drink.... Starts with wine... Then I wake up in my car with mascara on my arms covered in french fries...
So the stripper who poured a beer on my head also gives great head. Even she doesn't know why she went home with me. No more mystery shot challenges.
Oh and apparently something happened that was related to "THIS IS SPARTA" but no one will tell me what I did.
So I'm going to blame my boobs hurting on that.
I am no longer drunk enough to crave tostitos
Do you know how many guys' fantasies I've been told I'm a part of lately?!
Just 2. But still.
Hypothetically speaking, at what point does fire become too much fire?
My thoughts mid terrible hookup: do people normally read a magazine right about now?
Randomize
