How many nights a week you wake up with sticky boxers cause you were dreaming of Clay Aiken? Your wife mad?
It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
yeah I know. she is a stupid fat trailer trash bitchwhore and I hate her
but when she came up to me in the bar I had to be all like "OMG HEYYY how are you, I haven't seen you in foreverrrrr!!"
but for the record, yeah, I hope she gets mauled by a bear and dies
so, just learned that EVERYONE heard pretty much everything last night. my roommates were surprised to learn you're a dirty talker.
Oh and then this old man who saw it happen goes "don't do that"
Hahaha what a helpful old man. Like you thought it was normal to be spilling gas everywhere.
He invited you over for Super Sexy Saturday and Cosmos... I'm pretty sure that's gay
I gotta stop tellin complete strangers at the bar that they're the godparents to my first born
I also tried to drunkenly adopt a kitten last night. It didn't pan out.
I'm at breakfast at my kid's school and I have noted at least 3 other parents with last night's red wine mouth and bleary eyes. I don't know why I always get so paranoid.
There are 27 signatures on my ass. What the hell happened last night?
Every time someone made a cup you congratulated them by letting them sign your ass.
He woke me up at 5am to recite nursery rhymes to our fictitious unborn child.
He stopped in the middle of having sex to ask me what shampoo I use. Apparently my hair smelled good
That's always how I imagine things at your apartment...
Good, I'm glad you don't have some weird, skewed, clothed version of reality over here.
Caprisun cuts tequila surprisingly well...
My bookbag can hold 30+ beers. They shoulda put that on the tag bc its a big selling point
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