life is all about the fine print - all i wanted was a fucking pony.
I'm giving up shame for lent. Here come the best 40 days and nights of my life.
at russian wedding, no open bar. bottles of vodka at table. getting to work tomorrow may be an issue.
We'll both be dead in approximately 72-96 hours, with you bringing your liver out of retirement again, Favre.
And then he proceeded to take my heartbeat, because apparently that tells him whether I was faking or not...
Curse you and your alcoholic milkshakes.
You're welcome.
You insisted on going outside so you could "breathe real air".
Shitshow foam night was such a success
I want to name my colorful bowl Batman. Why? I still have yet to figure it out. But I'm calling it Batman.
I found you in the bathroom. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor wearing nothing but socks completely surrounded by broken crayons.
Thanks for letting me pee on your bed and cry about nothing to you. You're a real friend
All I want for Christmas is my co-worker's speakerphone to be thrown against a brick wall, and the remains burned in a backyard fire while I roast a hot dog over it. Is that so much to ask?
quickly learned not to sleep with your roommate and work colleague in the same week
It's the Ides of March, motherfucker. That means we're supposed to daydrink, right?
God gave you your own nipples for a reason.
Randomize
