I can only imagine the horrible things my future wife is doing on spring break right now.
I woke up after 12 hours of being wildly intoxicated, got jizz on my face, and woke up in a different bed than I passed out in. My makeup is still perfect. I'm writing Revlon a thank you note.
I love watching the kids I sold drugs to score touchdowns
Apparently the last thing they remember of me was me stumbing into a bathroom, then falling out 5 minutes later clutching a butter knife repeating "ketamine goes in my face hole"
another part of my inner child died when i emptied my crayon bank for dollar beer night.
I just want to point out that nothing makes my hickie/hangover more obvious than sleeping in a scarf and sunglasses. nothing.
Girl we've come a long way since our first Brazilian wax
SORRY BITCH CAN'T, TAKING SHOTS TO WHITNEY HOUSTON.
If one of us has to be polite I guess I won't sneak out while he's in the shower
Probably won't be invited back there again considering last time his purebred corgi ate my pot brownie and had to be rushed to the hospital.
All I want for Christmas is my co-worker's speakerphone to be thrown against a brick wall, and the remains burned in a backyard fire while I roast a hot dog over it. Is that so much to ask?
The night they met I slept with both of them. Of course I'm best man.
Your liver needs more exercise - we start training tonight.
Is she still on a quest to lick every stranger that enters the bar, or have the restraining orders reached critical mass?
I'm eating an ice cream cone and pooping. Don't know how I'm gonna wipe.
Randomize
