believe me... letting the man that delivered you from your mother's vagina do shots off your stomach is really fucking awkward.
They just both started mumbling "i cant go home like this" "it's all over my face" "do you have extra pants?"
My right boob is officially about a handful while my left is 1 and 3/4 handfuls. I'm staring at the mirror falling into a deep depression.
dude I'm not 100% but I think your mom is sexting me.
Basically as long as the fan is pointed at my vagina i can cool off enough to sleep.
SHE JUST SHOVED MY HAND DOWN HER PANTS AT THE BAR
Don't text me with that hand
I'm laying in bed with a case of beer,.. That's how this break up is going..
THIS ISN'T WORKING THIS IS THE DRUNK LEADING THE DRUNK
Also I'm sitting home alone with a big ass bowl of marshmallows right now just eating. It's so sad.
There's a very drunk Asian strawberry shortcake crying on the curb next to my truck. I'm not really sure what standard protocol is for this situation.
What not to say at an interview: i can wrap the shit out of some food.
So I'm going to regale you with a tale of someone who went out, was fed way to many shots, got super wasted and now has a date with one of the security guards from the building but has no idea what his name is. That someone is me
Liar. My heart is broken and my boobs are disappointed.
The only alcohol at my aunts was mikes hard so I drank 9 of them and puked in the master bath
Oh dear. Sending much love.
Just send a machete.
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