So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
No flamethrowers. That is a direct order.
she shotgunned a can of v8, threw the can on the ground and said, "fuck bitches get money" then passed out on the spot
pretty sure 5 days for a bachelor party in Vegas is too long when even the stripper giving me a lapdance says "wow that's a long time!"
I'm sort of afraid for my life tho. If the 4th of July can be the way it was a DMX show is capable of anything
i’m just listening to christina aguilera’s “your body” on repeat and trying not to pass out at my desk.
It might be whiskey, but I view Marge and Homer Simpson as something to strive for
I was so drunk last night I couldn't see faces, only from the shoulders down.
I don't know. I'm drunk and dressed as a pirate but ill do the math tomorrow morning.
I'm not sure. But he has a pet sugar glider. So, points either way
As long as that's not his name for his dick.
Like actually I will be single and sad and lonely for ever. Cheese will be my life partner. Robot sex is my future.
I just got high and swiffered the bathroom floor....2 for 2 on brilliant life ideas
I am more than mildly offended he didn't screenshot the snapchat of my boobs.
That was a beautiful concert to sleep through ...
I know - Don't let me take drugs from strangers anymore
Chick in the kitchen making breakfast.. Yours or mine?
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