Ok. Also I almost just threw up. Seriously. I was think to myself "really? Here? Now? At my work desk?" and then it went away.
This kid is too lonely to be my drug dealer.
You were chewing up hot dogs and spitting them out
I should probably file for unemployment. Sometime between last night and 4 AM I facebooked my manager the lyrics to hoe by ludacris. I'm just projecting ahead here.
Found a guy passed out on the coffee table with a thong duct taped from ear to ear.
I remembered to bring wine in a nalgene bottle, but I forgot sunscreen and water. I'm starting to question my life decisions.
I just watched the lion king for the first time in years. It's like the equivalent of a really good blow job.
After last night I think its official. Deep down, we like alcohol more than we like women.
Hey, dude, is Kevin still passed out on your porch?
Yeah. I'm gonna go leave a pitcher of bloody mary next to him in case he's still alive.
He threw up on my head while I was blowing him, and then I started barfing, and the kitchen floor was a mess. Believe me, he will never, ever live this down.
That's what you get for doing kinky shit with a guy that lives in his moms basement.
Since when is my clitoris pierced?
Bad part of last night: I puked in my hair. Good part of last night: I assembled a posse.
You kept pulling me aside saying "look what I found"
no no no no you can't just say your dirtiest secret is "i sat on goldfish by accident once" and just leave i have QUESTIONS
AT LEAST TELL ME IF THE GOLDFISH WAS STILL IN A BOWL??????????????
Try sleeping with him.
Why is it that all my gay friends have that solution...
Cuz you will have an answer or have sex.
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