At first I was confused when I woke up with shards of glass and pickle brine in my pants. But then I remembered I hung out with you last night.
I feel like royalty, that girl from last night had a vajazzled vag. Bucket list complete.
They poked me and kept screaming "LAUGH DOUGH BOY" it's like 3rd grade all over again.
I got a phone call from security asking me to do my laundry wearing more than a blanket next time.
I just feel like I should give it a rest. I'm too old to be drinking bottles of grey goose and falling into koi ponds.
Partial kegs from last night are currently in my bathtub, which leads me to 2 questions: 1. What are you doing tonight? 2. Can I use your shower?
I'm pretty sure the bus driver knew how hung over I was and hit all the pot holes on purpose. I threw up into my water bottle.
Are you sure you didn't shit in my back yard?
I'm approaching homosexuality at an increasingly alarming rate with each break up.
she visited to give me a bj between clients. Social work at its finest.
I walking on her passed out on her bed, clutching a burrito and the walking dead dvd on replay.
Maybe one day we'll get unicorn butt tattoos together
Why can't you just come over, fuck me, then leave so i can get stoned and watch law and order?
Oh my fucking god, I was conceived on the first date.
Grandma said I got a good handjob. I think she meant manicure.
Randomize
