i'm signing you up for texting rehab
I wasnt that drunk. Throwing the table off the third story was totally logical.
After he convinced me that my friend had died and come back to life, I decided I was having sex with him that night, and that I should lay off the drugs for a while.
I never thought to pass out in a hotel lobby rather then paying for a hotel room until you taught me that's acceptable at the Hilton
You just kept yelling, "THAT'S THE POWER OF PINESOL, BABY!"
I wonder what chicks would think if they learned that when we add them on fb we email their bikini pics to each other.
I cried singing "call me maybe" on the way home from the bar. What the fuck
I hate being near you and not being able to do what I want. It's like a recovering alcoholic tending bar. I feel like Sam Malone. Except I can't bang the cute chick I work with.
I'm getting offered Candy Crush lives in return for sex. Like wtf.
I don't think you should say "suck my dick" and then proclaim to be a messiah, of any sort.
Apparently I offered the cop my Taco Bell.
Desperate times...
Mixing Powerade and white wine has been one of my better ideas.
I am 5' 11" of pure, uncut Fuck Off right now.
Granted every 20 shifts of working there you seem to be on par to receive some sort of racy satisfying sexual encounter which money can’t buy
You know the story of the boner party, right? They got stuck in the mountains and ate each other?
It was the Donner party... boner party was the porn version...
Randomize
