oh vodka. i could write you a sonnet.
dear sober me, don't br the first to open the fridge in the morning
Well, I'm eating cake, watching wedding videos of people I don't know, and crying. Clearly I'm a vision of mental health today
we just plugged the camera up to the big screen. would you like to come see what you did last night, in high definition?
Typical Sunday afternoon purchase of condoms and a helium tank.
Don't worry we will all be making bad decisions soon
That's the most comforting thing I've heard in months
Apparently, my drunken 3AM idea of safety is to send a GPS map of my location to someone 700 miles away. Seriously considering death as a viable alternative to this hangover. Death or Yuengling.
Maybe it was that imaginary ghost dick you were stuffing in your mouth a minute ago
"But puppies!" Is not an acceptable excuse for trying to drunkenly steal someone's dog, you promiscuous midget!!
What happened with the girl wasn't a gay thing. It was just a mutual respect and want for sex. The guys just weren't there.
Call it what you want. You fucked a girl.
We went rollerblading down high street singing "Free Falling"in ketchup and mustard costumes. A car full of guys drove by and yelled out their window "Need a hot dog with that?!" Naturally, we woke up at their apartment.
I know it sounds all cute and shit that I wanted him to be with me last night, but it's not cute. I just wanted to fuck.
I keeping finding meatballs in random places
i couldn't be more explicit if i hit him upside the head with a dildo
we live vicariously through your huge boobs
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