Ever have the mailman look at you like youre a chronic masterbator. I have.
What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
kindergarten is hard when you're hung over.
Someone will be leaving this trip either pregnant or devastated.
We woke up, fucked, and shared a piece of my sister's first communion cake for breakfast.
And you thought you were going to hell last weekend.
I just found a hunk of ham in my back jeans pocket from god knows when. We gotta stop going so ham.
He was crying because he hiccuped every time he kissed me. We then crawled to the kitchen because neither of us could stand, and I spoon-fed him peanut butter "to cure his ailment."
I'm the one on the patio wearing underwear. Holding a pipe. Pigtail and glasses. Can't miss me.
We're living together and you don't know if I've seen Titanic?!
Got drunk with him at an Irish pub ended up losing him for twenty minutes when I finally find him his piss drunk singing Irish folk music with a group of Irish guys and a midget
He meets the coolest people when he's drunk
Walked in on my roommate covering his dick in blue frosting. Am staying with my folks for the Forth. See you Monday if the brain bleach works.
I'm disgusted with myself. I feel like I need 10 boxes of Summer's Eve and a baptism.
Also there's so much vodka on my breath that if I blew on my fingers my nail polish would fall right off
Well. I hope my dad likes whatever sweater stoned me picks out.
The dicks good but it's not two trains and a bus good.
Randomize
