My history with restaurant waiters is severely limiting our dinner options.
you ran down to the water at 3am and rolled in the sand and ran around screaming that you were the corn dog monster.
You need to come get me. I'm pretty sure that gravity's going to crush my brain
she spent the whole night flailing her arms because "primates are the only species who can move their arms like that and we shouldn't waste it"
My vibrator challenges you to a duel.
the evidence from last night is not good...
what evidence?
my underwear is on inside out, and there are french fries in my hair...
Maybe we could get a groupon for vasectomy. I'm game.
I'm pretty sure you and I ate the entire Keebler elf weed workshop
Dude. You stood in a corner laughing your ass off while folding clothes, facing the wall. Yes, they were weed brownies..
you said "how could you not want to hook up with me when I have these abs" and then proceeded to rip your shirt off in the middle of the bar. I'm pretty sure you were hammered.
JESUS
Sorry. My phone died in the middle of you explaining why we would never work as a couple. Whatever you were gonna say, I probably agree.
I like her because we want the same things out of life AND she actually wants to have sex with me.
I didn't know White Castle was open when your sober.
If you had a good reason for throwing the toaster at the wall, now's a good time to tell someone. My parents are on their way back and you know my dad and his pop tarts.
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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