So at this point...I'm sure you heard the story about Saturday night
She's either too fat to type, hammered or has terrible spelling.
one night of dollar margs at dinner and dollar beers at the bar later, i am throwing up in his shower and gurgling soap and water to kill the taste of sin in my mouth. dollar days need to stop endng like this.
and I'm sitting five inches from the tv scrunched up in a ball watching doug. It's like I'm five again...except I'm more stoned than the dude who created this show
...then she kept trying to make balloon animals with my flacid penis. I'm never drinking whisky with you again.
While we were making out, he kept yelling at me for not coming to his wedding last month.
I knew it would get worse when I said I think your roommate is watching and he looked over at him and said ... So?
It's that thing where you don't have any food so you just drink beer to get your needed calories for the day.
Today wasn't Sunday Funday, it was more like Sunday god is taking a shit on my life day
Using a miniature baseball bat to kill a mosquito in the house may not have been the most efficient or safest way, but that thing is fucking dead. However, so are three wine glasses, a lamp, and my baseball bat privileges. Worth it.
Ill go to bed but tamed sharks isnt so much of a bad idea. Not for riding
It was a great party. People were literally still doing shots and playing drunk Jenga at 6am...
We spent 45 minutes searching the crevices of our friend's car with a pair of tweezers trying to find the acid that we dropped
Like wanna sit on your face while you speak German hot
Have I told you i love you?
there's no need we are two peas in a naughty pod of fuckery
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