So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
tequila makes my crab dance SOOOO much better
Hemmingway ran to paris to avoid going to the university of illinois and becoming a doctor. It was there he developed a drinking problem. I need a plane ticket.
He's trying to kill me, one liver cell at a time. It's going to be a slow, but awesome death
I found out why we traded puke covered dresses in the bathroom.
Random girl at this party just gave me a lap dance in a la-Z-boy. Night significantly improved.
I'm going to be blunt here. I don't actually care what you're doing tonight. I just need to know if I need to shave or not.
I might not remember all of last night but I clearly remember the part where I humped the mailbox.
And fyi howling is not an acceptable form of communication.
You. Dating a sex offender cop. Life writes itself sometimes.
Just thinking about this summer makes me feel a slight tingle of an orgasm mixed with a twinge of regret as the cold ghostly feeling of multiple hangovers creep into my body.
The police report said "I asked the suspect if he had any identification. He replied yes and gave me a Pizza Hut gift card"
I refuse to be socially acceptable any longer than what is needed to pick up chinese food.
Some mornings I close deals. Other mornings I puke out my window while I’m driving down the highway
if I start to respond to these political texts with a middle finger emoji - do you think they will get the hint?
Randomize
