don't read that magazine bro. I came in it
Was I wearing clothes when I handed you your keys. Please tell me I was wearing clothes.
Just picked them up. It took 6 holes and a handle of rum to evolve from golf to a demolition derby.
There's an entire pit crew of cart boys surveying the golf cart destruction.
bro, sorry for: trying to put you on fire yesterday, telling the bouncer that it was you that broke the bottles, and to have slept with your sister.
This is like a relationship, I expect to be mind blown at least once a week.
I think this hangover is going to kill me. If it succeeds I would like you to read a dramatic rendition of 'Trapped in the closet' complete with interpretative dance at my funeral.
I think I'm drunk at the airport. Oh the possibilities
no, I didn't go in the end. Too hungover and hot, plus Star Wars is on so obviously I'm having a naked day.
That which doesn't kill you gives you an excuse to get shitfaced later
last thing I remember was someone walking in on me sitting in the bathtub listening and singing along to Britney spears "Till the world ends" on repeat.
OMG I COULD FUCK HIM FOR POT, THIS CHANGES THE WHOLE GAME.
Sitting on the toilet ... Eatin pizza with one hand, petting my cat with the other. I love a sad drunken life
Fun fact: the guy I banged last night. His middle name on his birth certificate is "Windstorm."
Who the fuck stole my fridge again
you had her IN YOUR BED NO PANTS AND YOU GAVE HER THW BOOT?!?!?!
Stage five clinger bro. had to go.
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