She helped me organize my comics and then blew me. This is the one.
He's trying to kill me, one liver cell at a time. It's going to be a slow, but awesome death
And the cops told us we were all naked.
apparently he couldn't remember my name so he refereed to me as whats-her-boobs and everyone knew that it was me he was talking about
Well I tried to steal a golf cart. I fought with the Chick-Fil-A cow. And other things.
The night started going down hill when she shot the cashier in the face with the confetti gun we bought at 711.
Fourth time I had to be woken up in the line of Whataburger in two weeks. First time my shirt was free of vomit.
we were running to make last call and you stopped me and said very seriously "if i fall, go on without me. just make sure theres a beer in my hand when you go"
I think the last straw was when you put on ice skates to go across the waxed wooden floor.
you take my contact solution?
drank it last night then filled it with brandy for the plane ride.
I feel like she is getting all kinds of bacterial exposure that may otherwise have been avoided had she been wearing pants
I hope you get a lego stuck in your dickhole
The man built me a fort. Of course he got laid.
We could probably bang our way to enlightenment. However acid helps.
Here's the "to do" list i just found on my phone: buy stripper pole, make sex playlist, buy febreeze
Randomize
