He belongs with you like a mcdonalds playground belongs in Chernobyl
Confirm your location. A cross street is best, but if google mapping yourself is your least-shameful option go for it. ps- going through his mail for an actual address is always an option.
If i'm not hungover, near death, and wondering what i did the night before on Monday, life is not worth living.
You nicknamed her "lazy eye" and were screaming across the bar at her to buy you a drink...
there's no toilet paper. I'm using wheat bread.
After he came he asked what I was doing for thanksgiving.
Please tell me I did not ask the bartender how big his dick was.
we've called him dos banos ever since he threw up in 2 separate bathrooms with the same puke
I feel like jumping into a breast pit right now. Like the old school ball pits at mcdonalds.
And I feel like pitchers of margaritas accidentally make it down your throat a lot.
I mean, the lady at the Mexican restaurant insisted. She said she would win a prize if she sold another pitcher before noon. And plus I got to wear a sombrero
After the 3rd time his brother walked in on us I asked "Does he ever knock?" his reply "This is his room"... Turns out he didn't even live there... I feel like a hoe.
there's a drunk hobo under the bridge wearing a jester hat and screaming at women
Spotted: shirtless guy wearing cut-off hot shorts, 1 cowboy boot and a sombrero puking in a bush while his friend yelled 'stop being a bitch" from the sidewalk'. Happy 4th of July 'merica!
Stay home. Ain't nothing out in these mean streets but plan b and regret
she is legit trying to fuck me to death between her and work i haven't slept in 3 days and have at least 16 hours to go before sleep is a possibility. can i crash at your place she doesnt know where you live
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