So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
i cant even explain all the reasons why i dont want to fuck you right now.
I'm buying a chandelier at walmart. WHO'S CLASSY NOW, BITCHES.
I mean. If you don't have time I understand, but my dick doesn't.
Just ducktaped my beer to my bike. See you in ten.
I'm never telling my kids not to take ecstasy, never. Idk what my mom was thinking.
Can I sell my birth control in a yard sale?
It's that "make a Pringle and Twinkie sandwich" kind of depression.
I'm sitting on our balcony drunk. And in my underwear. Our relationship with our neighbors may improve.
It's titled "A countdown to death. A psychological look at the downward spiral of actress Lindsay Lohan and her inevitable Hollywood demise" This dissertation is genius. Not a single sober moment for either Lindsay or myself. Good stuff!
THEN YOU WILL NOT GET TO SEE MY TITS TONIGHT OR IN THE NEAR FUTURE YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD
I haven't had sex since the Vanilla Ice concert
Please don't have sex ever again just so you can say that forever.
Why do my weekends always degenerate into using my little brothers childrens board games for drinking games?
so on a scale from morning glass of wine to that time i burnt the garage down how drunk were you last night
About 'lets tie a boat to a truck and ride it down the freeway'
fucked one of the teachers, librarian job's going great
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