We named our saturday intramural dodgeball team "we're hungover". Pretty much just an excuse to fuel my alcoholism on friday nights.
I just wiped my face with a slice of bread. Lowest point of the night.
His mom walked into the kitchen smiling, made a scotch on the rocks, hit my bong, and told us goodnight enthusiastically. He's suddenly more appealing to me.
HE HAS A FUCKING TWIN. HE HAS A TWIN. I'M NOT DRUNK THERE IS TWO OF THEM.
Pretty sure God shed a tear when I put 15 singles in the collection plate.
i honestly don't know why someone didn't cut me off after i broke the ceiling lamp with MY HEAD
I have a busted ear drum from when he honked his horn when we started to have sex on his car in the parking lot...
Its kind of weird knowing that im only seeing you that day to fuck in some woods
Secondly, that waffle is lost for good. I have no fucking idea where that bitch is
Too many penises have met your hands. Stop or die.
Let us ponder on the good times. Ya know when the Jonas brothers were incapable of growing facial hair and I didn't fully understand what a dick looks like
That's a good 5 hours of "I have no fucking idea what I did".
He's tiny, but ripped. Like a stacked hobbit. He's going to pull our sexy, crime-fighting rickshaw.
sorry i got drunk at sunday brunch and force fed carrot sticks to your cat
This guy needs to stop asking about my feet
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