I feel like I got hit by a truck made out of Jack Daniels.
i love how i spend my mornings exploring my phone to see what i did last night.
you told the bartender not to open the bottle because you were gonna put it in your purse in case you get cut off later
answered a 6 am booty call this morning...you were still in the er so I thought what the hell
isnt this the same guy you hooked up with on his birthday and he then asked, "you were at me birthday?" the next time you were together?
I spent part of my valentines extracting candy hearts from a woman's vagina. The entire time I was thinking "this job pays for my Mercedes. This job pays for my Mercedes. This job pays for my Mercedes."
Hes a nice guy and all but I'm only interested in his drunken alter ego.
FYI, grandma is already drunk and using a bed sheet as a table cloth.
It wasnt until i started dancing that i realized i pissed myself dude. I dont think shes gonna call me back.
Just remembered when I first started going down on him he goes "ok now I feel a little better about the broncos losing"
He passed out. I tried to set his chest hair on fire.
it was so good i reconsidered my staunch atheism
I literally can not watch Thor without thinking of your dick
I wanted one last NYC adventure and I got it. Now I just have to figure out a polite way to wake up the pantless former stripper illegal Russian immigrant street violinist chick currently in a vodka coma in my bed.
At some point you said you just wanted to get laid, so we had a moment of silence for your dead sex life...
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